Derek and the Seven Bridges
by Aside
Summary: Everything I will tell you is a lie, mostly because I speak the truth. Someday you will understand: the truth makes everything more difficult. The doc, the scientist, the psychic and my "trainer"; all of us ... well, let me begin at the end.
1. S e v e n   B r i d g e s

My mother always told me magic was just another form of lying. I wouldn't say that. It's more like an escape; a temporary sanctuary from reality. I used to love magic. But those days are gone now. In a way I guess I still practice a little magic.

CRACK!

I expected it to feel different. I thought that this death would be a grand event, but I hardly even noticed the difference. Tell me old Friend, did you feel the same way; or were you just as confused?

Isn't it funny how it all makes so much sense in retrospect? How all the mundane details coalesce to form a more complete picture. Suddenly everything is more, how can I describe it? It's like... adding a drop of dye to water so you can see all the vortices that objects leave in their wake. You realize that you're a huge moron for not seeing it all earlier.

But enough of that crap, let's get to what really matters. I feel like I haven't seen you in ages old Friend: I want to hear the whole story, from the beginning. No, that doesn't mean I need a history of the universe, I understand that causality bullshit well enough my old Friend.

Start with the boring stuff, when things were simple... then add the dye.


	2. 1 ::::: Delta

_Delta_

The swell enjoyed the feeling of the gentle wind on its crest. For the swell had been born just moments earlier and was already well on its way to becoming a successful wave. A noble trade indeed. To bravely feed its mother the land its father hung over each night was the swell's dearest wish. The feeling of joy was replaced with sorrow as the swell recalled his father's timely death just hours ago. However, the swell remembered its purpose and soon returned to its prior mood, merrily gliding along the ocean surface.

An unwitting assassin would ensure that the swell would never fulfill its dream. The swell felt the metallic bow cleave through its back. In its final moments, the swell managed to obtain vengeance on those who had sent it back to its mother.

On the deck of the ship, that traitorous agent of the land, stood a boy who would soon become the sole recipient of the swell's wrath. The salty droplets of fury assaulted the boy, forcing him to retreat away from the edge of the boat. The stunned boy began to wring out his now untidy black hair until he remembered that mechanical objects and salt water do coexist peacefully. Taking the watch out of his pocket, the boy was relieved to find that there was no damage done and subsequently decided to return to his room to dry off.

The boy clutched the watch in his hand as he left a trail of water from the deck to his room. He began to mentally prepare himself as he approached his room, but to his relief found that the lock to his room was electronic, it relied on magnets rather than tiny pistons. He sheepishly retrieved the slightly damp card key from his back pocket, wondering how he could have forgotten about it so easily, and entered his room.

After cleaning himself up he lay down on his bed and inspected the watch - Twenty minutes after eight. He set the watch back down and calculated that it would be another four hours and forty minutes before he reached land. The boy thought it would probably best to just take a quick nap. He had been up since three and was still somewhat drowsy. He gazed at the woodwork in his cabin, using the maze of grains to dull his senses. Over the next few minutes the physical and emotional sides of the boy battled, anxiety losing out to the weary body, and the boy drifted into sleep.

The clicking grind of lock parts was the sound that awoke the boy. The boy was irritated by the noise as he went from being asleep to being awake, but irritation became panic as the boy wondered how long he had been asleep. Soon panic was replaced by embarrassment as the elderly crewmember entered his room and saw him.

"What time is it?" the boy asked the amused crewmember. "Sir, the boat reached port about an hour ago," said the elderly crewmember. The boy got out of the bed and started grabbing his things and shoving them in his pack. Taking a moment to catch his breath he counted his things, checking that he had them all in his head.

The clothes that had been wet were all in the pack; the only items in the largest section due to his earlier decision to purchase the camping gear he would need upon arrival. The front pocket contained the his toiletries, a small leather-bound book, the 1,200$ that was left after spending 800$ on the boat ticket and a few other items he didn't really care about. The other pockets were empty, except the pocket that the boy had yet to find, in which instructions on how to care for the pack resided.

Satisfied that he had his things the boy ran out of the room, hastily thanking the elderly crewmember. The elderly crewmember chuckled and returned to his work having just received a story that he would tell to curious passengers for years to come.

The boy sprinted down the empty dock, cursing himself for sleeping-in. The sprint died down into a light jog as the boy collected his thoughts. _"I still have an hour and a half,"_ the boy told himself. Perhaps if he jogged he could reduce the two hour walk to the lab.

The boy stopped and looked around at the port-town. The buildings that sat along the seaside were all the same, save for a few older buildings that had been spared at the ends of the boardwalk. But at the moment, the boy was not interested in the architecture; he was looking for the main path that lead to the laboratory. The urban bustle of the port soon melted into forest and the boy relaxed. The forest path soon widened and the boy found himself at the laboratory.

It was a beautiful building, a surreal blend of science and nature that appeared to be shaped by the wind. It made many tourists reach out and grasp at air to check that they had not seen some illusion. The gentle white walls seemed to bow to the boy as he wandered up to the main entrance.

The messily scrawled sign reading 'Out' struck the boy with disappointment, but the boy had already suspected that the professor he was here to see had left and so the emotion quickly dissipated. The sign below the disappointing note however, bore only his name and an arrow pointing towards the greenhouse that curve around the side of the laboratory. The boy felt excitement and giddy anticipation upon finding the sign and he quickly made his over to the side entrance.

Locked!

The boy knocked on the door, but no reply came from the lab assistant, who was so engrossed in her own thoughts that she failed to take notice of the desperate teen outside. The boy looked down at the old lock and thought how easy it would be to unlock it. The boy pushed the thought out of his head. _"Too risky," _the boy thought to himself, unaware of the khaki-clad officer of the law standing behind him.

"She's always been the suspicious type," the boy turned around to see the thirty-something year old holding a key ring. "Here, I'll get that for you," the officer said with a smile. "T-thanks," the boy replied, thanking his hesitation more than the officer's kind gesture.

The officer put a finger to his lips, smiled, raised his eyebrows and then handed the boy the small parcel he had been holding. The officer was from the small hamlet that supported the rural laboratory and rarely saw action. After creeping up behind the lab assistant, the officer turned and gave the boy a playful wink before putting his plan into action.

"Hey Sam! brought a package for you!" the officer shouted into the lab assistant's ear. The assistant leapt up at the sudden noise, banging her knee on the desk. The angry woman raised her hand up to strike the laughing officer, but stopped when she noticed the boy who was failing to contain his own laughter.

"Found him waiting outside," the officer chided his friend, "If you didn't get so lost in your own thoughts you wouldn't need to lock the doors". The lab assistant was embarrassed. "Are you by any chance...," the lab assistant looked down at the sheet where the boy's name and the time - 4:O3 - were written. The boy nodded in the affirmative. "Oh! I'm so sorry," the assistant said, "please come in". The boy handed the parcel to the assistant.

"I believe that's for you... as are these," the assistant handed him five little balls. The boy placed the balls on the table and reached for his money, but the lab assistant stopped him. "No, the league provides them free of charge. Unless you want to buy some upgrades," the lab assistant glanced at the parcel as she said this. "You can pay me if -," as the officer began to speak the lab assistant shot a glare that silenced him. The boy did wish to buy an upgrade or two and so handed over 180$ and the parcel.

The boy and the officer waited while the lab assistant searched the messy office for the upgrade parts and software. The boy and the officer made idle chatter until the officer remembered something he forgot and ran off. Moments later the lab assistant returned. "Here you are," the lab assistant said as she handed the parcel and a few small boxes containing parts back to the boy.

"Don't I get a starter or something?" the boy asked tentatively. The lab assistant frowned, "I'm afraid he took them with him," she said. "He's in Cherrygrove for the conference, but it'll be nightfall before you can get there in time," the assistant said whilst sliding back into the chair. The officer returned with food.

"Heard you had to work late tonight," the officer said, "there's enough for three if you want some". The boy gladly accepted the officer's offer because, after sleeping through lunch and walking all day, he was very hungry. The food was excellent and the two friends and the boy quickly finished their meals.

"Thanks for the meal, I'm going to go to Cherrygrove now," the boy said as he stood. "Uh, it's getting pretty dark..." the lab assistant said, letting the last word hang."Oh, he'll be fine," the officer said, "If any wild pokemon attack, just kick 'em". The lab assistant was horrified for a second, but realized that her immature friend was merely joking and laughed.

"In all seriousness I doubt you'll even see any, so there's no need to worry. There isn't a path to Cherrygrove but it's real easy to get there," said the officer. "Be careful!" the lab assistant yelled to the boy as he left. The boy waved goodbye and began his night-hike through the woods to Cherrygrove.

* * *

><p>Nightfall had arrived. However, it was not the kind of dreadful night that haunts the nightmares of young children. This night was the type of night that seemed to mix pleasant stillness and luminosity. The boy estimated that he was only about ten minutes from his destination and began to pick up the pace. The boy noticed his shadow grow more defined, the blurry edges shifting and sharpening in the light. He looked around for the source of this new light. The boy found the source to be what looked like a star; only this star died out and began falling. Only when the boy saw the smoky trail that followed the star did he realize what it was.<p> 


	3. 2 ::::: To be one traveler

_To Be One Traveler_

When faced with an emergency situation, different people will have different reactions. Very few will remain calm and act rationally. The boy occasionally daydreamed that he would be a great hero that saved somebody, but in his heart knew that he would be an onlooker. One of those people who became paralyzed with fear the moment danger presented itself. The boy's heart was incorrect. The truth was that the boy was one of those people who underplayed the severity of an emergency. The boy was one of those people who did not really see an emergency for what it was.

Filled with doubt and indifference, the boy chastised himself as he made his way towards the source of the flare. He convinced himself that he was going to interrupt a lovely, little family playing with fireworks, or that he was having hallucinations caused by lack of sleep and dehydration. Eventually the boy would prove himself wrong again.

The boy found the source of the was a girl in her teens, sitting up against a tree and clutching a flare gun against her chest.

_"Maybe she just set the flare gun off in her sleep," _the boy told himself, _"or maybe she's dead."_ He thought that he should check just to be sure. _"Doesn't seem to be breathing and she is awfully pale,"_ the boy thought.

The boy had a moment of panic. If the boy were to make a list of things he did not want to be, 'corpse finder' would have made the top thousand. He decided that he ought to at least check for a pulse so that he would be able say he did something for her. He reached down and gave the 'could-be-a-corpse' girl's neck a soft poke. The girls eyes opened slowly and the boy breathed a sigh of relief. The boy and the girl looked into each other eyes for a good ten seconds.

"Hey, asshole you wanna help us," the girl said weakly, pointing to the back of her head. It was only when the girl looked to her side that he noticed the unconscious pokémon beside her. His attention was soon diverted back to the girl as she fell unconscious, revealing the gash on the back of her head.

The boy had no idea what to do, but at least the girl wasn't dead. Safe from the grim title, the boy decided that cleaning the wound would probably be the right thing to do. Leaning the girl's head forward he looked at the wound. It wasn't as bad as he initially thought. The boy thought he heard his heartbeat grow louder and louder. It was the sound of footsteps approaching. The boy turned to face the stranger.

His instincts told him that this stranger might have tried to kill the girl and that the stranger might have evil intentions. The boy was proven wrong in the end.

"I have medical training. Are you injured?" the stranger who had may or may not have had medical training said. "No, I just found her like this," the boy said, "She has a gash on the back of head."

The stranger with possible medical training crouched and went over a mental checklist while he inspected the wound. "This doesn't look too serious…" the stranger paused, "but you can't be too careful with head injuries." The stranger stood up. "Spine should be fine, it looks like that branch fell on her," the stranger mumbled to himself, "There's a hospital about five minutes from here; can you help me carry her?" The boy nodded.

"Wait a second," the boy said as he knelt down and checked the unconscious Pokémon. It was knocked out, but otherwise unharmed. The boy turned back to the stranger who took out a pokéball. _"Is he going to catch it!"_ the boy thought. As it turned out, the pokéball contained the stranger's pokémon. The boy was temporarily blinded by the flash of red light that accompanied the pokémon's release. When the light stopped stinging the boy got his first look at the stranger's pokémon.

It was a metallic bird whose sleek body silhouetted beautifully against the night. The metallic down that coated its body had a wonderful luster that absorbed one's mind and gave the air around it that viscous quality that air has at sunrise. On its chest was an insignia that comprised of a large, red plus sign inside a white shield. Its tired eyes betrayed its age, but the countenance with which it held itself showed a power and determination. The large metallic bird noted its surroundings, paying little attention to the boy staring at it with awe.

"Take that umbreon to the pokécenter," the stranger commanded, failing to conceal a hint of nervousness. The bird complied, gingerly picking up the injured umbreon and flying off. The boy set down his pack and helped the stranger lift the girl. She was lighter than the two expected and this, combined with the adrenaline that surged through them, made the short journey to the hospital relatively easy.

Cherrygrove's hospital was small like the town itself, servicing both people and pokémon. The hospital rarely saw emergencies, but still had the necessary equipment to handle them. When the boy and the stranger arrived at the hospital the staff was ready for them. One nurse held the unconscious umbreon in his arms while another two were standing by a gurney ready to receive anymore victims. The nurses took the girl from the boy and the stranger and rushed her into a nearby room. The boy and the stranger followed the girl into the room and soon a doctor arrived. The doctor yawned and addressed the two nurses; evidently he had just been woken up as he was still in his pajamas.

The doctor checked the wound, gave the go ahead to the nurses, and then addressed the boy and the stranger. "Is that your skarmory out there?" the doctor asked the boy. "No he's mine," said the stranger softly. "Then I take it that you practice medicine; was that umbreon with her?" the doctor inquired. "Yeah, right next to her," the stranger looked down and smiled, "I'm going to be an EMT once I'm done training." The doctor was whispering something in the nurse's ear while the stranger talked.

"First time in the field then eh," the doctor said while he prepared a razor blade. The stranger nodded. "I'll be sure to write a letter to your instructor, why don't you stay for this," the doctor said while preparing to operate. The nurse returned with an intravenous bag full of a clear liquid and handed it to the other nurse. The nurse put a firm hand on shoulders of the stranger and the boy and asked them to wait in the lobby. "Not him, he can stay," said the doctor.

The boy returned to the lobby alone and sat down on one of the uncomfortable orange benches. The cocktail of chemicals that had empowered him mere minutes ago, were all but spent and now he could do nothing but wait for the results. The boy dozed off for a good twenty minutes until a nurse woke him up.

"Here you go, your umbreon's looking as good as new," the nurse said as he smiled and set the pokémon down. The boy nodded and smiled, not having the heart or energy to correct the old man. The umbreon wandered around the lobby with a sort of disinterested confusion.

Soon the nurse who had sent him to lobby entered the hospital with two packs in hand. The stranger had sent her off to retrieve them while the boy took his power nap. The nurse gave the packs to the boy, who thanked the nurse and sat back down. The umbreon jumped up on the bench next to the boy and eyed him suspiciously. The boy eyed him back.

The umbreon had the legs of a standard quadruped, long and efficient, useful for running. Its tail and ears however, were oddly shaped. They looked like large fishing lures, growing in diameter until their middle and then tapering into fine points. Its fur was entirely black, except for the rings it bore on its thighs, ears, tail and forehead. The rings themselves seemed to glow, growing in brightness then fading back slowly, pulsating slowly like an unceasing heartbeat, red eyes large and uncaring. It was a strange and eerie being.

The secretary of the building leaned over the counter and spoke to the boy. "I'm afraid you can't sleep in the lobby," the secretary said apologetically. "Is there a hotel where I can go?" the boy asked. "Yeah there's one just down the road…" the secretary furrowed her brow as she trailed off, "but they're probably all booked up now." The boy sighed and started carrying the packs towards the door. "Hey wait!" the secretary called after him, "I'm not supposed to do this, but we only have a couple of patients. You can sleep in room 607 at the end of the hall." The boy turned back to the secretary and smiled. "Thank you," the boy said.

The umbreon followed the boy down the corridor, keeping a safe distance. The boy reached for the door handle and gave it a jiggle. _"Why does everyone lock everything!"_ the exasperated and slightly frustrated boy thought to himself. He looked down the corridor and saw that the secretary was gone._"Nobody can see. What's the harm?"_ the boy thought to himself, remembering that day at the beach.

The boy was a psychic.

While he had his gift since he was ten, four years ago at the beach was the first time he had used his psychic ability to pick a lock. He learned something that day: other people feared his ability. For when his mom explained how he was able to open the door without a key, the boy saw the concealed fear in his cousin's eyes.

Fear... from that day forward he took greater precautions to hide himself, unwilling to be labeled a pariah consciously or unconsciously. The boy managed to successfully stay hidden while maintaining social connections. For his greatest strength was how weak his ability was.

But, there was nobody around now and the boy was looking forward to sleeping. Cautiously, the boy put his hand over the keyhole and focused on the tumblers within, feeling the weight and tension of the springs push back on his body. Even exerting the smallest force drain him physically. The door was soon unlocked and the boy stepped inside and set down the packs. He would have to give the girl her pack tomorrow.

The boy froze when he heard a sound behind him. Quickly spinning around he saw the umbreon growling at him. The boy began to feel dizzy as he stared at the eyes of the angry umbreon. "Easy now," said the boy, his breathing becoming less controlled.

"I saw what you did, psychic."

The boy felt the words strike him like a hammer. Feeling the familiar feeling of dread and fear, the boy's vision faded from red to black and he fell into unconsciousness.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Disclaimer:<strong>_

_**Pokémon and the respective characters encompassed by the umbrella of the Pokémon franchise are owned by Nintendo and affiliates. Any resemblance to persons live or dead is entirely coincidental unless otherwise stated.**_


	4. 3 ::::: To wander lonely

_To wander lonely_

Light filtered in through the window and tickled the boy's eyelid, bringing dreams back to reality. Slowly the memories of what had occurred yesterday returned to the boy. With his mind not fully functioning they were shapeless feelings attached to details. Soon the details became anchored to events and events to a timeline. An awareness of the pain in his back began to grow. He opened his eyes and looked at his surroundings.

_"Why am I sitting against the bed?" _the boy asked himself. The boy saw the black pokémon sleeping in front of the door and remembered why. The boy stood up slowly and stretched his sore muscles. The umbreon stirred, stretching out before opening its own eyes.

The two eyed each other suspiciously and remained silent. Finally the boy broke the silence. "W-were you the one who spoke to me?" the boy said quietly, looking down at the tile floor. "Can you speak?" the boy asked with more conviction in his voice this time. The umbreon yawned a spoke its own language of repeated 'umbreon'. _"Guess it was something else,"_ thought the boy to himself. He looked at the umbreon who was now standing in a non-threatening position.

_"I wonder who it was," _the boy thought to himself_, "Maybe it was just my imagination." _ Suddenly, the umbreon started growling again and the boy's eyes snapped back to the angry pokémon. "Let's see if this works," said the umbreon. The voice was the same voice from earlier; an old and mischievous sounding voice. The only difference this time was that there was less threat in the tone. "So it was you who talked to me!" the boy exclaimed quietly. "Well that worked well," the umbreon replied smugly. The weight of the implications came crashing down on the boy and he sat down on the bed.

"Please don't tell anybody," the boy begged the pokémon. The pokémon jumped on the bed and sat next to the boy. "It's not like I can," the umbreon responded. The little dots began to connect for the boy. "I can't do this," said the boy, more to himself than the umbreon sitting next to him.

The boy may have feared social stigma, but that did not mean he had not research and experimented on his own. The boy looked into all the categories and subcategories of psychic phenomena and found that he only had telekinesis. Experiments conducted when he was alone showed him how weak his ability was. Even moving the lightest things exhausted him; the heaviest thing he had ever lifted was an apple and that made him sick for two days. The boy had held on to the hope that his powers would improve with time and use, but that had not happened over the years and he gave on up ever doing anything more with his ability.

Now he could talk to pokémon. The joy of improvement swept over the boy and he wanted to hug the umbreon. "Um… helloooo," the umbreon broke the boy out of his thoughts. The boy looked down at the umbreon with a huge grin on his face. _"What's he doing!" _the umbreon thought to himself. "You know I'm doing most of the work right," the umbreon said while attempting to avoid a hug. "Huh?" the boy seemed disappointed. Both parties were beginning to feel the strain of using their abilities at after such an exhausting day. The two stopped talking for a few minutes before continuing the conversation.

"Is that girl your trainer?" the boy asked. "No, I don't have a trainer," the umbreon replied. _"I didn't know he was a wild pokémon," _the boy thought playing with the watch in his pocket. He pulled it out and looked at the time. _"10:30! The lab assistant said to catch the professor before 11:00__,__"_ the boy thought. He rushed out the door leaving the umbreon behind. "Hey don't leave me here!" the umbreon shouted after him. "Leave me a sandwich or something," the umbreon mumbled, knowing the boy was already gone.

The umbreon sighed and started checking the packs for food. After stealing a cookie from the girl, the umbreon tried to reach the door handle but found that he was too short. _"Who does that moron think he is running off like that," _the umbreon thought. A way to get out presented itself in the form of a pack. Pushing the girl's pack against the wall, the umbreon was able to escape and he found himself in the hallway of the hospital. The smell of hospital food hit the umbreon's nose. Though, diminished by the smell of sterile equipment, the smell of meats and warm food permeated the ward. The hungry pokémon made it most of the way down the hall, but was stopped by the doctor. "Hey there little guy where ya' going?" the doctor picked up the pokémon. "Put me down!" the umbreon squirmed in the doctor's arms to no avail. "Aw, do you miss your trainer? I'm sure she'll feed you," the doctor said to the struggling pokémon. _"Guess I could stay for awhile…" _the umbreon thought.

* * *

><p>It was not light, but sound that woke the girl up. Pounding footsteps and shoe squeaks worked just as well as light though. The boy and girl woke in much the same way, the difference being that for the girl, events, feelings, and details did not seem to mesh together. As she looked around the unfamiliar room a few memories returned but not all, remembering why she was here. She reached up to the back of her head and felt the gash. <em>"How could such a tiny cut do all this?" <em>the girl wondered. She hit the call button and a nurse arrived.

"Hello, I'm glad to see you're up," the nurse smiled, "How are you feeling?" _"What a dumb question,"_ the girl thought. Instead of voicing her opinion the girl replied, "A little hungry." "I'll get you lunch after I do a basic check up," the nurse said as she pulled out some tools. _"Lunch… what time is it?" _the girl wondered. "Looks fine… what's twelve plus seven?" the nurse asked, checking off on a sheet on the clipboard. _"Yeah those double digit numbers are tricky," _the girl wanted to say, but instead she said "nineteen." "Okay you're your brain seems to be working just fine, just sign this while I'll go get your lunch," the nurse said cheerfully. The nurse left the room as the doctor entered with the umbreon.

"Here you go little guy," the doctor set the umbreon down on the bed. "You caused a lot of problems for your trainer," said the doctor. "She's not my trainer," the umbreon snapped. "I'm sure she'll forgive you," the doctor said, not understanding the umbreon at all. "This umbreon isn't mine…" the girl frowned as she started to sign the form. _"T…T…T… what's the rest?" _the girl could not remember the rest.

"Really then who – Hey what's the matter?" the doctor had looked up from the umbreon and noticed the concerned expression on the girl's face. "I seem to be having trouble remembering my name," the girl set down the pen with a frustrated growl and thought hard, _"I can't remember anything!" _"Hmm… I was afraid this would happen," the doctor pointed and the umbreon. "This little guy's toxin's pack quite a punch," the doctor patted the umbreon who shifted around, uncomfortable in his guilt.

The nurse arrived with the girl's lunch. "So what you're saying is that I have amnesia? I didn't think that was real." the girl said despondently. "We'll have to do some more tests to be sure; neurology isn't really my field so I can't say for sure…" the doctor grinned. _"Reynolds is going to be pissed when he hears about this one" _he thought to himself. "Is it permanent?" the girl asked. "Retrograde isn't normally... you know, I really can't say, but one of my colleagues would be able to tell you; he's in Violet city for the conference so you'll have to wait a few days," the doctor said, "We'll just leave you to eat your lunch for now, hit this button if you need anything." With that the doctor and the nurse left the room.

"Looks like you got me into a big mess," the girl said softly to the umbreon. "Yeah sorry about that," the umbreon moved up next to the girl in a gesture of apology. "I guess you wouldn't know about that though," the girl began to pet the umbreon, "I'm just the trainer who forgot to feed you." The girl offered the pokémon her bread roll. _"I can't just leave her, I ought to stay with her… at least until he can explain everything to her__,__" _the umbreon told himself. The girl stared out the window and ate her food slowly. _"What a mess," _she thought to herself.

* * *

><p>"Do you know if professor Woodrow is here?" the boy asked the bored-looking man behind the counter. "Yeah he's over talking to the newbie," the bored-looking man did not even look at the boy as he spoke, but he did point the boy in correct direction. The boy was glad to have finally caught up with the professor. He was starting to think he would never find him. He walked over to the office indicated by the bored-looking man.<p>

"… and these people are dangerous!" the professor voice showed concern. "It's my first real chance to make it big," the rookie cop whined. The boy knocked cautiously on the door. "Can I talk to the professor?" the boy asked cautiously. The professor began to speak but was cut off by the rookie cop saying, "No! were done discussing." The boy entered the room; he was surprised by how cute the rookie cop looked, she couldn't have been any older than him. "I'm looking to get a pokémon. Your lab assistant said you kept them with you," the boy was slightly flustered but nobody noticed. The professor adjusted his tie and stood up. "I'm afraid they were in my bags and my bags have already been taken to the hotel in Violet city," the professor said. "Oh, I guess I can wait a couple days…" the boy was disappointed again.

"Wait a second I have the perfect solution," the rookie cop rummaged around in the desk drawer. "The department's looking for people to adopt some puppies," the rookie held out a key triumphantly, "how would you like a growlithe?" The boy's face lit up, he had always been interested in becoming a cop and getting a growlithe would only bring that dream closer to reality. "I'll take that as a yes; follow me," the rookie cop looked back at the professor, "Would this be okay with the league?" "As long as they haven't battled yet, Sarah I think we ought to discuss-" the professor said. "Don't be rude," the rookie cop cut him off again. The rookie cop led the trio to the holding cells. They were empty except for the one that had been converted to a makeshift play pen.

The three sleeping puppies awoke and began to run around and play when they three entered the cell. "People are coming by later to pick up two of them so you better choose quickly," the rookie cop teased. The boy and the rookie cop played with the puppies for a couple of minutes. "I think I'll take this one," the boy pulled the growlithe away from his shoelace. "A fine choice. Let's go get you registered," the rookie cop flashed him a smile and put the growlithe into its pokéball. The three left the playpen-cell and made their way over to the bored-looking man. "Can you register this?" the rookie cop asked as she handed over the pokéball to the bored-looking man. The rookie cop turned to the boy and the professor.

"Hey while we wait, you guys wanna get lunch or something?" the rookie cop asked with a demure smile. "Okay," the boy quickly responded. "I have to wait for Paul. I told the hotel I would be here," replied the professor. "Guess it'll be just us two then," the girl edged closer to the boy. "Hey, there you are," the boy heard a familiar voice say. It was one of those rare voices that fell on the precipice of unnerving and calming, like every time he spoke a storm began and ended. The boy turned around and saw the stranger.

"How've you been Paul, heard you were involved in something serious yesterday?" the rookie cop asked cheerfully. "I've been doing alright Sarah," Paul said. Sarah addressed the boy, "Oh, this is Paul, he's been working with me on something." "We've already met," Paul said. "You know Paul?" Sarah asked the boy. "He was the first responder yesterday," Paul informed the rookie cop. "No way that other guy was you?" Sarah smiled at the boy. The boy nodded and blushed a little. Eventually the four left and made it to the restaurant where Paul told the story.

"… and then I went back to the hotel," Paul finished telling the story. "It's good to know that your growlithe has gone to a good person," the professor said. "Yeah you were both really heroic," Sarah sighed. "We should go check on her, I'm sure she'll be glad to see you," the rookie cop stood up. The professor looked at his watch. "We have the time," the professor said, "Plus if we stay any longer the manager will kick us out." The four paid for their meals and left. Sarah ran off back to the department to get the boy's new pokémon, promising to meet them at the hospital.

The secretary gave the boy, the professor and Paul visitor's passes and let them see the girl. "You two go on ahead I have to check on something," the boy suddenly remembered leaving the umbreon alone and sprinted down the hall. _"Hope he isn't too mad," _the boy thought to himself. The boy found the door ajar. He entered the room and grabbed the girl's pack. "Guess he went back to the wild," the boy muttered, a little sad to see the umbreon go. The boy shrugged it off a made his way over to the girl's room.

The room was fairly crowded with six people and a pokémon in it. "Here's the man of the hour himself," the nurse said. "Is that her pack?" the doctor asked. "Yeah," the boy said as he gave the pack to the girl. The umbreon jumped down off the bed as the girl began search through her pack. The umbreon gave the boy a little nip on the leg, "Why'd you trap me in that room!" the umbreon said angrily.

"Blackjack!" the girl said, embarrassed by her pokémon's behavior. The boy gave the umbreon an amused smile. "Get me out of here, she thinks she's my trainer!" the umbreon said desperately. The boy picked up the umbreon and held him in his arms. "Stop squirming," the boy whispered. "It's okay, Blackjack didn't break the skin," the boy snickered a bit at the name. "What are you looking for?" asked Paul. "Some sort of ID," the girl responded. Paul saw the boy's confused face and explained the situation to the boy. "So you wouldn't remember calling me an asshole then?" the boy asked. "Did I say that?" the girl found what she was looking for, "Sounds like we got off on the wrong foot." The girl opened the wallet and pulled out her trainer card.

"Let's try again then. Hello my name is … Tracy. What's your name?" the girl said in a fancy accent. "It's Marcus. Nice to meet you madam," the boy replied. "Madam?" Sarah said, pretending to be outraged. "Here's your pokémon sir," Sarah curtsied and handed over the pokéball.

"We really have to go," the professor whispered to Paul. "I'll be up in Violet city, here's my number if you need to call me," Paul gave Tracy a card nervously. The professor and Paul said their goodbyes and left for the city. Tracy put the card in her pack and looked at her trainer card. "I'm going to Goldenrod," Tracy declared.

"I think it would be best if you waited here," the doctor said. "Goldenrod is my hometown according to this card, I bet my parents are really worried about me," Tracy ignored the doctor. "I insist that you stay for observation, brain injuries can take awhile to manifest themselves," the doctor was becoming annoyed. "I'm sure Marcus can escort you to Goldenrod," Tracy's comment about her parent's had struck a chord with Sarah, "Won't you Marcus?" Sarah inched closer to Marcus making him feel uncomfortable and joyful at the same time

Marcus felt trapped. He didn't really want to babysit this girl, but he didn't want to ruin his chances with Sarah. "I guess I can," Marcus said apprehensively. There was a knock on the door. "Visiting hours are over," the secretary called. "Great meet me here at 10 o' clock tomorrow," Tracy said as the secretary ushered Marcus and Sarah out of the room. _"What have I gotten myself into," _Marcus thought.

He hoped the doctor would talk her into staying. "Thanks for helping her out," Sarah gave Marcus a little smile. She took out a pen and started writing in her notebook. "Call me sometime," Sarah tore out the page and handed it to Marcus. He cheered in his head as he watched her walk away. The secretary gave him a little nudge. "You're welcome to stay another night, but you'll have to pay for dinner," the secretary told Marcus. The secretary shuffled their way back to the front desk. Marcus felt the umbreon squirm around and put him back on the ground.

"Sorry for leaving you like that, I just didn't want to be late," said Marcus sheepishly. _"I'm kinda glad I was late," _thought Marcus as he put the note in his pocket. "Buy me dinner and we'll call it even," the umbreon said. Marcus bought two dinners and brought the food back to the room. He was glad to find the door unlocked. The boy and the pokémon ate their dinners in silence, reflecting on the day's events and the future. "So will you be heading off now or what?" Marcus asked the umbreon. "I'll head off tomorrow morning," the umbreon yawned. Marcus stared at the ceiling fan. _"I guess I'll be heading off too," _Marcus thought.


	5. 4 ::::: The immense heart

_The Immense Heart_

"Hey wake up," said the umbreon. "I need to know something," said the umbreon again, he was poking Marcus in the face. "I can't understand you," Marcus moaned. The umbreon swatted Marcus on the nose. Marcus opened his eyes and glared at the umbreon. "I just want to know what time it is," the umbreon whined.

"See for yourself," Marcus pulled out his watch and pushed his head back into the pillow. The umbreon stared at the watch, a mix of emotions seemed emanate from it. Marcus pulled the watch back and looked at the time himself. _"It's probably a good thing to be up this early,"_ he told himself begrudgingly. He rolled out of the hospital bed and stumbled over to the door. He opened the door and took the two trays of breakfast that he had pre-ordered yesterday.

"Help yourself to breakfast while I get ready then we'll release you back into the wild," said Marcus, his good will towards the pokémon returning. Marcus enjoyed his long shower. Normally he was so rushed in the morning that he didn't have time to enjoy anything.

"Ready to go?" Marcus asked the umbreon, feeling refreshed. The umbreon nodded. "Well someone's awful quiet today," Marcus said. The umbreon continued chewing his food. "…or your mouth is full," Marcus chuckled. "I want to show you something," Marcus said.

An ivory mist had settled over Cherrygrove in the night. It hovered over every house, holding the resident's minds and encouraging them to maintain a blissful apathy towards others. Nothing else existed in the mist, except for oneself and the patch of earth below. The boy and the umbreon created and destroyed individuals as they ambled slowly through the mist.

"This is my grandparents house, when they died they left it to my uncle," Marcus looked down at the umbreon, "I'm sure he wouldn't mind if you stayed here when the weather got bad." The umbreon remained silent and looked at the house, clearly touched by the gesture. The house seemed to softly sigh in the misty twilight. "…I am sorry for your loss," the umbreon said. "I didn't really know them that well, it's been hard for my uncle though" Marcus smiled.

"You can't really miss what you don't know," the umbreon replied softly.

"You can see the effect they had on people you knew," Marcus said quietly, playing with the watch in his pocket, "You can miss the effect they brought with them." The two remained still for awhile, the mist entrenching them into their own thoughts.

"I guess this is where we part ways," Marcus said. The umbreon looked up at him. "I'll miss you," Marcus said quietly. The two turned back towards the house, the sun was beginning its daily journey and their journey together was ending. Marcus turned around and disappeared back into the mist alone and the umbreon continued to sit and stare.

* * *

><p>Marcus sat on the bench outside the hospital. The morning had begun well so well for him and now he just felt blue. He stared at his watch and thought of his uncle. <em>"I might be the only male family he has now,"<em> the boy thought. _"The reverse is also true," _his inner voice chided. He put the watch back into his pocket as Tracy left the hospital. "Right, we're burning daylight let's move out," she clapped her hands in front of his face, "Hey what's the matter?" "Nothing… let's go," Marcus answered. He stood up slowly and inspected Tracy.

A head poked out of her bag. "You miss me?" the umbreon said. A huge smile formed on Marcus's face. "I thought about it for a while and…" the umbreon paused for effect, "free food and shelter isn't so bad."

Tracy backed away from Marcus slowly. "Uh, what's with the creepy smile?" she said nervously. "I'm just glad to see you," Marcus replied. "Gag me," she said. Tracy rolled her eyes. "Before we go, we need to get some supplies," she smiled obnoxiously, "I don't want a greenhorn like you slowing me down."

The comment bugged Marcus. "Who says I'm new at this?" he questioned her accusation. _"I've been on plenty of camping trips," _he thought to himself. "No need to get so pissy," she put her hands up in mock surrender, "It's just that most hikers wouldn't wear sneakers." Marcus glanced at his shoes, then at hers. "I don't see you wearing hiking boots," he retorted.

"I didn't say I wouldn't be getting some stuff too," she said, "one of the nurses said that a friend of hers could set us up."

They soon arrived at the shop, if you could call it that. It was more like a refugee center where abandoned camping gear sought shelter. Dusty stoves, old cookware and tattered sleeping bags lay in piles on the floor. An old woman was in the back taking inventory of items older than she was. Blackjack peeked out of the pack and scrunched his face up, the dust irritating his sensitive nose.

"This place is a dump," Blackjack stated flatly. "No kidding," Marcus whispered. "We're here to get some junk," Tracy said, clearly not impressed by the store, "A friend sent us." The old woman turned and inspected Tracy and Marcus. "If she thinks a little business will repay what I did for her she has another thing coming," she muttered to herself, "What can I do you for?"

"We need you to outfit us," Tracy said. "Newbies eh?" the old woman chuckled to herself, "Alright empty those backpacks, I'm gonna need to see what I'm working with." The two complied with the old woman's request. "Sorry Blackjack, looks like you can't hitch a free ride anymore," Tracy cooed.

Marcus was surprised to see how little Tracy carried: a humble stove, utensils, some rope and a sleeping bag were the only things in the main pocket. The front pocket was a different story altogether. There was of course, her trainer card and pokedex, every trainer had those, but that wasn't all that was in the pocket. Gum wrappers, broken pencils, a pocket knife, a flare gun, a necklace, playing cards, a first aid kit, a 1000$, a notebook and a plastic bag that once held a cookie were all strewn out on the floor and she kept reaching in a pulling more stuff out. There were other 'private' things that Tracy left in the pocket that Marcus didn't ask about.

He was far more interested in the necklace. "Mind if I take a look?" Marcus touched the necklace. Jewelry making and metal working was one of his hobbies. It was one of the few things that he could really put his gift to effective use in, unless he wanted to become a thief. "Be my guest," Tracy said, pulling a badge case out of the front pocket. The stone was interesting, a black stone that had little pinpricks of green and red that appeared at different angles. Marcus was more interested in the quality of the silver setting though. Tracy finished pulling all her stuff out, stashing her hygiene items in her pants pocket. She took the necklace back and put it on.

"Looks like someone likes to travel light," the old woman eyed the pile of junk in front of Tracy's pack, "Sort of." The old lady inspected the inside of the packs. "Hmm, standard stuff really," she mumbled to herself, "I'm going to need to see your pokémon too." Marcus had completely forgotten about his new pokémon in the hustle and bustle. He released the growlithe in a flash of red light. The puppy pokémon greeted him excitedly. "Fire-type means you won't need a stove," the old woman murmured to herself, "Let's look at packages?" The two humans followed the old woman leaving the pokémon behind.

The growlithe puppy was too engrossed in chasing its own shadow to notice that they left. Blackjack looked through the things on the ground, seeing if he could find any food to steal. "Where'd the boy go?" the growlithe asked Blackjack, it had grown bored and now yearned for its master. "Marcus is busy," Blackjack grumbled, he didn't find anything edible in Tracy's belongings.

"Who's Marcus?" the growlithe looked around nervously, "Where are my brother and sister?" The growlithe began to whimper. "Look kid, Marcus is your trainer now," Blackjack said. "Oh, okay," the growlithe said cheerfully. The growlithe marched up to Blackjack's side. "What are you doing?" the growlithe asked.

"Looking for food," Blackjack was getting annoyed. He turned to see the growlithe crouched down and ready to pounce. "Want to play with me?" the puppy asked. "No," Blackjack responded. He looked up to see Tracy and Marcus returning with their supplies, the old lady smiled slyly as she counted her money. Blackjack felt a little pain in his ear, the growlithe had decided to try and taste it.

"Marcus get it off me!" Blackjack wailed. "Return," said Marcus, he missed the first time but eventually got the growlithe back in the ball. Marcus put the ball back on his belt. "Looks like Blackjack made a new friend," Tracy picked up Blackjack and coddled him. Blackjack didn't bother struggling. The old lady, who had watched the scene unfold with a bemused smile, returned to the subject on hand. She showed them how to pack their bags efficiently and sent them on their way.

The sun hung high in the sky and Tracy and Marcus still had to go to one more store to go to before they could start travelling to Goldenrod. Marcus ordered lunch while Tracy went to get food the first leg of the journey. Marcus was glad to have some time to talk to Blackjack in private.

"Sorry about growlithe earlier," said Marcus. "Just keep her on a tighter leash next time," Blackjack's reply was muffled by the bread he was enjoying. Tracy returned with the groceries. "I see the food's here," she stated. Marcus had already finished and paid for their meals.

"I'll put these away," Marcus said, he looked over the food as he distributed it equally between himself and Tracy. "Uh… where's the pokémon food?" Marcus asked, putting the last bit of food in his pack. Tracy looked up from her meal and said, "They can hunt for their own food. If they don't catch anything I bought a little extra." She finished her meal. _"I went along with this specifically not to have to hunt!" _Blackjack fumed. The three left the restaurant.

They began the hike to Violet city. It was a forgiving trail, a gently sloped path that made for relaxing walking. The three trudged on towards an uncertain future.


	6. 5 ::::: Grallator

_Grallator_

"I challenge you to a battle!" someone shouted. A kid, who could not have been more than eight years old, leaped out in front of Marcus and held a pokéball to his face. Marcus would have been amused, if the young challenger's yell hadn't startled him so badly.

"What do you think you're doing!" Marcus screamed at the kid. The kid winced when Marcus yelled at him. "I j-j-just want to battle," the kid whimpered passively, he was on the verge of tears. "Well you don't just sneak up on people like that!" Marcus was shouting, but he was no longer angry. "I'm sorry," the kid said quietly. Marcus took a deep breath. "No, I'm sorry for scaring you like that," Marcus's voice was shaky from yelling, "I accept your challenge." The kid regained some of his confidence and spirit.

"Right then, that makes me ref," Tracy took control of the situation and told the two where to stand. She knew that technically there didn't have to be a referee for this fight because technically this wasn't an official fight, but she was going to be the referee anyways.

The league barred anyone under twelve from entering without special permission and guardian consent. However, newer trainers rarely turned down fights from the overzealous schoolboys that plagued the routes surrounding the pokémon labs. Whether these unofficial battles helped or hindered new trainers was often the subject of heated debates in certain intellectual circles, but that did not matter to Marcus. This was his first battle, official or not.

"Alright you two..." Tracy held her hands up. Both gripped their pokéballs in anticipation and waited for the hands to drop. "Let the battle begin!" Tracy shouted.

"Go growlithe," Marcus released the growlithe in a flash of red light. The puppy wagged its tail and ran over to Marcus. "Go Ratty," the kid sent out a rattata; a pokémon often the subject of ridicule, but common amoungst begginers.

"Use quick attack!"

The rattata started to gather speed and go in for an attack, but ended up tripping on a root.

"Now's your chance growlithe," Marcus said.

The growlithe played with his shoelaces, oblivious to its trainer's embarrassment.

Tracy looked over the two incompetent trainers."_This has to be the most pathetic battle ever," _she thought to herself.

Marcus pried the growlithe off of his shoe.

"Attack!" he commanded.

"You can't just yell attack and expect anything," Tracy said, "You have to be specific." Marcus realized he did not know any of his Pokémon's attacks. He felt like a complete fool. _"I need to find out what attacks he has,_" Marcus thought. He pulled out his pokedex and started scrolling through the entries, desperately looking for growlithe's entry or anything that would help.

"Go! Quick attack!" the kid shouted.

The mouse pokémon slammed into the growlithe's side. The growlithe let out a confused whine and growled at the strange rat that hurt it. "Ratty again!" the kid shouted, excited to be winning for a change. The rattata charged and rammed the growlithe again."Marcus you have to do something," Tracy shouted.

Blackjack stepped in from the sidelines, unwilling to let inexperience decide the battle. "Hey!" Blackjack yelled to the growlithe. "What's going on?" the confused growlithe asked Blackjack. The rattata hit it with another quick attack. "You have to dodge you idiot," Blackjack told the growlithe.

"Tackle Ratty," the kid said. The growlithe leapt deftly to the side, following Blackjack's advice.

"Bite it!" Marcus said forcefully. He'd found the information he needed.

The growlithe sank its teeth into the rattata's head causing it to let out a squeal of pain. The rattata thrashed its way out of the growlithe's jaw and struck back with a bite of its own. The battle became an all out wrestling match, neither pokémon listening to its trainers. Tracy had seen enough.

"I declare a draw," said Tracy. Both trainers recalled their pokémon. Marcus hung his head in shame._"How am I going to make it big if I can't even beat a kid," _he thought. "AlrightT, I came this close to winning!" the kid exclaimed. The kid ran off without saying goodbye. Marcus watched the giddy kid disappear back into the woods and sighed.

"Hey, you didn't suck too badly," Tracy said. "Thanks for the pep talk," replied Marcus. "Well aren't we the snob," she said.

Tracy looked around and saw a clearing a little way into woods. "We ought to start setting up camp before the sun goes down,"she said. She ran to the clearing and surveyed it. "Well are you going to just stand there or are you going to help," Tracy scolded. Marcus walked over to the clearing and set his stuff down. _"Some busywork will help"_ he assured himself.

"Alright what can I do?" he faked happiness poorly. "Go get firewood," Tracy told Marcus, she was busy pulling out her stuff. Marcus obliged. "Marcus wait!" Tracy called after him, "Let your growlithe and Blackjack go hunting together." Marcus let the tired pokémon out, then began to comb the area for wood.

* * *

><p>Tracy sighed. <em>"Only a couple more days with this whiner," <em>she told herself. She finished unpacking her stuff and started preparing dinner. 

_"One week, one week," _the doctor's words echoed in her mind. She focused her mind, searching for details, faces and places. Failing to latch on to anything, she gave up with a growl. Not being able to remember was incredibly frustrating.

She tried again only to nick her finger with the knife. _"Better just finish making soup first," _she thought. Tracy finished making the soup and sat down on her sleeping bag. _"Where is he?" _she thought. She was starving. _"He's so slow and mopey all the time," _she mentally attacked Marcus.

_"You're no picnic to deal with either," _her inner voice said. It was the same part of her that was secretly relieved whenever she couldn't remember anything. She thought about all her annoying habits and sighed again. Marcus was back with the firewood. _"Only a couple more days"_

* * *

><p>"<em>They can hunt for themselves. Why don't you hunt for yourselves!" <em>Blackjack cursed inwardly. The growlithe puppy galloped beside him, blissfully ignorant of his anger.

"What are we doing?" the growlithe inquired. The umbreon sniffed low to the ground. "Looking for a meal," Blackjack said. He paused and took a deep whiff. The growlithe imitated him, taking audible sniff's as Blackjack followed the scent trail to its owner.

It was definitely a furret. _"What a pain in the ass,"_ Blackjack thought. Furret's were always nestled in their underground dens and would always run at the first sign of danger. He could catch them, but they always put up a fight.

"What's that smell?" the growlithe asked. "Shh! Just do what I say," said Blackjack. The growlithe nodded silently, glad to be playing any game with Blackjack. Blackjack investigated the area and found the entrances, he smiled crookedly to himself. _"This kid could have some use after all," _he thought to himself.

"Kid, I want you to go in that hole at my signal" Blackjack said. The growlithe poised itself at the den entrance. Blackjack ran over to the other entrance and positioned himself, if this worked they would eat well tonight.

"Now!" he shouted.

The growlithe dug into the burrow and tried to attack the furret. The scared pokémon retreated, right out the other entrance, right into the trap.

It never even saw its killer. Blackjack lunged for the neck, snapping it in one fluid motion. The furret fell limp in his mouth. "Did I mess up?" the confused growlithe asked, popping its head out of the burrow. _"No you did alright," _Blackjack thought. The two headed back to the campsite triumphantly.

* * *

><p>It took some effort to get a fire started. One reason: the growlithe had never used a fire attack and could only produce weak sparks. Another: Marcus didn't know how to build a fire properly. Soon enough everyone was enjoying their meals around a glowing campfire. Meals finished, the four watched the fire die slowly as the sun followed suit. Marcus was waiting for Tracy to go to bed, he wanted to speak to Blackjack in private and couldn't do so while she was still awake. She just wouldn't go to bed.<p>

"Marcus," Tracy said, "I noticed something earlier…" Marcus feigned attentiveness, he was getting very impatient. "Well it's just that…" Tracy said, "When you were battling earlier you just called your growlithe 'growlithe'."

"So," Marcus said.

"So! You have to give her a name," Tracy was annoyed.

"Oh, yeah I will," Marcus quickly said. He'd planned a list of names for the regular starters, but had done no such thing for his growlithe. "It's just that, I don't really know what to name him," he told Tracy. _"What if he already had a name?" _ Marcus wondered. It'd be another thing he'd have to ask Blackjack when he talked to him.

"She's a bitch," Tracy pointed at the sleeping dog.

Marcus was taken aback by the sudden verbal assault on his pokémon, until he realized Tracy meant it technically. "Oh she's a girl dog?" He asked. "You didn't check!" Tracy asked, stunned by his apathy. "I didn't ever have the time," he replied quickly. Tracy tried to think of a retort but failed.

Marcus faked a yawn, "Why don't we think of a name tomorrow? I'm going to bed." Marcus started to climb into his sleeping bag hoping Tracy would take the bait. After what seemed like millennia, Tracy nestled into her own sleeping bag and fell asleep.

Marcus slowly climbed out of his sleeping bag. Cautiously, he crept over to the small bed of leaves that Blackjack slept in.

"Blackjack," Marcus whispered, shaking the pokémon. Tired eyes greeted Marcus. "What do you want?" Blackjack groaned. "I want to talk to you," Marcus whispered. "Tomorrow," Blackjack mumbled, shifting back to his side. "Now," Marcus said. Blackjack groaned as he stood up. "I suppose turnabout is fair game," he muttered under his breath. He followed Marcus to a secluded spot.

"Blackjack I need you to help be become a better trainer," Marcus said. Blackjack's grouchy mood lifted, giving way to mild amusement. "I am not human, what makes you think I know how to give orders?" Blackjack asked wryly. "I don't even fight battles. I'm more of a pacifist or a coward, whatever you'd like to call it," Blackjack added.

The words struck Marcus. He thought about whether pokémon wanted to fight sometimes, but now he faced the issue head on. Marcus sat down on a log and averted his eyes, staring at some distant object. "Blackjack… is it wrong?" Marcus asked timidly. "What?" Blackjack was starting to feel very uncomfortable. "Is it wrong, to make you… pokémon fight," Marcus stated more than asked. Blackjack did not like where this conversation was going.

"No," Blackjack said slowly, "I would do the same as you do, if I could catch you."

"That doesn't make it right you know…" Marcus said softly.

Blackjack regained control of the situation. "Marcus, if we did not want to fight we would not allow ourselves to be captured. We know the forests far better than you," Blackjack declared with a perfect blend of arrogance and encouragement.

This was not entirely true. Blackjack knew some were just victims of circumstance, but it was not his place to say what was just or unjust.

Marcus swallowed the lump in his throat and took Blackjack's lies to heart, relieved to find out he wasn't a slave driver. "But I still can't help you train," Blackjack continued. Marcus felt selfish when he heard that. "That's okay," Marcus said, "I just want to know what he…I mean _she's_ like." He felt terrible for not even knowing his first pokémon's gender.

"She's curious, annoying and thinks of battling as a game. Does that help you Marcus?" Blackjack winced at the last one, hopeful Marcus did not notice. "Yes, thank you Blackjack," Marcus said cheerfully. "Anything else?" Blackjack asked. "Just one more thing," Marcus said.

"Does she have a name already?" Marcus asked. "Most pokémon do not have names unless-" Blackjack was interrupted by a polite voice.

"Excuse me sir," a voice said. "Yes?" Blackjack said. "Blackjack what's going on?" Marcus asked, confused at the sudden stop. While he was able to carry on conversations with Blackjack for long periods of time now, he still only understood Blackjack.

"Is he safe?" the voice asked cautiously. "The boy has no ill intentions," Blackjack stated. A spinarak dropped down from the tree from the tree. Marcus suppressed the urge to scream in terror.

"Are you perchance, travelers?" the spinarak asked. Blackjack calmly nodded. "Then could you kindly take me with you, I should like to see the world," the spinarak said.

Marcus regained his composure, and started trying to understand what was going on. Unfortunately for Marcus, Blackjack was no longer helping him understand, so all he could do is watch the two converse. "So what you're saying is that you'd like to be captured," Blackjack said, giving a sly wink to Marcus. Marcus understood Blackjack, but tried not to show it."If it would not trouble you," the spinarak said.

"Alright I'm going to catch you!" he said for effect. He pulled out an empty pokéball from his belt. "Get ready to battle if I can't get it now!" he was a terrible actor, but he didn't care. Blackjack rolled his eyes. Marcus tossed the empty pokéball at the spider pokémon. The ball wobbled a little then fell still.

He had caught his first pokémon!


	7. 6 ::::: Apogee

_Apogee_

"So I thought I could run a few names by you," Tracy said.

The three had been hiking for just under an hour and this was the first attempt at conversation.

"Susan, how's that sound?" Tracy asked. "It doesn't sound right," Marcus wheezed, "Let's take a break." He was very tired from last night's excursion, but he didn't want to let Tracy know about that.

"Fine, Susan's no good," Tracy said, setting her pack down on a nearby rock, "Why don't you let her out so she can decide?" Marcus begrudgingly let the growlithe out. As much as he wanted to give her a name, he didn't need Tracy deciding for him.

"Hi Susan," Tracy said sweetly. No response. "Everyone's a critic," Tracy mumbled to sat down and racked her brain for names.

"I know how about Sarah," Tracy said. The growlithe wagged its tail at the name. Marcus didn't know what to say.

"Oh, you like that name don't you Sarah," Tracy cooed, rubbing the puppy's tried to play it cool.

"It's not that I don't like it , it's just that my friend Sarah is the one who gave me the growlithe and I don't know what she'd say if…" Marcus was speeding up rapidly as he spoke. He decided to stop before he said anything too stupid. "So that cop's name is Sarah," Tracy grinned mischievously," I guess you wouldn't want to call your girlfriend a bitch." Marcus blushed.

"Yeah, I saw the way she was drooling all over you," Tracy said confidently.

_"Maybe we ought to name her Tracy," _he thought to himself with a smile.

Tracy looked like she had something to say. Marcus had to refocused the subject quickly or he would risk embarrassment.

"All these names are too human," he said. Hopefully this would distract her.

"What are you saying, that pokémon are inferior to humans?" Tracy accused.

"No it's just –"Marcus glanced over to Blackjack, who raised an eyebrow in mock anger. "- Just chill out, I was only kidding," Tracy let out a chuckle.

"How about you call her Laura then?" She asked. The dog pokémon wagged its tail in approval. Marcus let out a faint smile. "That's like my mother's name," Marcus said.

"Ugh, I just can't win!" Tracy threw her hands up in exasperation.

"No, no, I like it," Marcus said. "Hello there little Laura," Marcus said in a soothing voice."Not that I think my mom's a bitch or anything," Marcus said, remembering Tracy's early statement.

"I'm just glad that Laura finally gets a nice name," she said.

* * *

><p>The rest of the hike was uneventful, Marcus's lack of energy made for poor conversation. It is when they arrived at Violet city, when they were no longer hikers but rather pedestrians, that conversation started between two. The town was brimming with excitement for the conference. There were huge banners depicting the conference logo strung up everywhere in town and crowds flocked the streets.<p>

The conference was a week-long gathering of scientists, doctors, and mathematicians from all over Johto and the world. Young minds filled ad hoc lecture halls, Companies announced new technologies and old friends and rivals held public debates; discussing everything from new archeological finds to the flaws of the seventeen-type system.

Many considered it a right of passage to receive a conference pin seeing it as an official welcome into the intellectual community. Conference veterans would often collect the pins from each conference and would amaze students with tales from their first conference. Their eyes would sparkle as they recounted dying a belligerent teacher's hair with a special batch of chemicals or late night sexual escapades with peers after solving a particularly difficult problem.

But Marcus did not care about the correlation between ocean currents and the migratory patterns of swablu, nor did he care about the mating habits of elderly mathematicians.

Marcus cared about the Violet city gym and winning the zephyr badge.

"Let's go find the gym," Marcus said. Tracy and Blackjack stared at him in disbelief. "How about we get some lunch first," said Tracy. In his excitement, Marcus had already forgotten about the lousy breakfast he had this morning. The delightful smells emanating from vendors had not shaken his determination. "No, we go to the gym first!" Marcus proclaimed. Tracy's open hand helped show him how hungry she was and he changed his mind.

They could not have had worse timing, just catching the mid-day rush. They went from restaurant to restaurant only to be told there were not enough seats. As Tracy grew more and more hungry, she became more and more grumpy.

"If I don't get food soon, I swear to Arceus that I'm going to kill a waiter and eat his entrails!" Tracy yelled at Marcus. Marcus wanted to hide.

"Well we wouldn't want that, you should sit with us," a familiar voice said. It was the professor sitting in a booth next to Paul.

Tracy and Marcus scooted into the both. "Thanks," Tracy said quietly, she was pretty embarrassed by her outburst. "We wouldn't want to be responsible for a homicide," Paul said in that calm voice of his.

The four made small-talk while they waited for their meals. The conversation focused mostly on the conference and the various activities within, later changing to what the professor would dub 'a fascinating look into the limits of the human digestive system' when Tracy got her meal.

"You win some you lose some," said the professor as he set down his fork. Tracy had been telling the tale of Marcus's first battle while they waited for the professor to finish. Marcus wanted to sink into the vinyl cushion and disappear. "You said you were going to Goldenrod right?" Paul inquired. Tracy nodded. "Skarmory can get you there real quick, if you don't mind the walk to the fly-zone," Paul said. Marcus couldn't believe what he was hearing. _"He's offering to take her for me!" _ he thought.

Tracy was eager to get back to Goldenrod and gladly accepted Paul's offer. "Okay we'll go today," Paul said,"Here Marcus you can use my hotel room tonight." _"Getting rid of Tracy and free board?" _Marcus thought excitedly. He had a new hero. Paul handed over the hotel keys, not that Marcus needed them.

"Hey I'll be in Azalea, for a while why don't you stop by when you get there," Paul remarked. He was the only person who expressed confidence in Marcus's ability to win. "I'll have to do that," Marcus said. "Well till, we cross that river again," Paul said as he exited the restaurant.

Every time Marcus met Paul, things seemed to get a lot better.

* * *

><p>It took a while for Marcus to realize that with Tracy, Blackjack had also left. Marcus assured himself that he would see him again when he went to Goldenrod.<p>

He would have been wrong if poor financial planning had not resulted in a shortage in supply. But this was no time for 'what ifs', Marcus had a gym leader to fight.

He was surprised to find the building almost completely empty. The lobby was fairly ordinary for a gym. The walls were adorned with all kinds of bird pokémon painted by a local school according to the plaque. The stadium itself was modest in size; not every gym leader could be a Chuck. The only people sitting in the stands was a group engineering students. They were drawing the retractable roof that the gym was famous for, probably trying to come up with a better design. The gym lacked only one thing: a leader.

Marcus pulled out his watch and checked the time. _"No, the door said it was open now," _he thought to himself. He ran his thumb around the watches edges nervously, feeling the raised lettering. This always calmed him down when he was nervous. He stopped rubbing when he heard a noise. The noise was shoes pounding on the floor.

A blue-haired young man in a cape came running out of the back and promptly cowered behind Marcus. "You gotta hide me man, she's crazy," Falkner pleaded, ducking behind Marcus. Marcus had no clue what was going on. A couple of students looked up from their work to watch the prominent figure cower behind the sixteen year old. "Nice pocket watch, a bit anachronistic for my taste, but still-" Falkner said. "Oh Falkner ," A sing-song voice called out.

"_Oh shit, she's here," _Marcus thought.

Suddenly he empathized with the blue-haired man hiding behind him. Yes he would be glad to see her again, but at the same time he was a little afraid. Two or three of the engineering students recognized the voice too and hid under the bleachers or ran out. "Falkner, where are you?" the voice was still sing-song. As the woman to whom the sing-song voice belonged walked through the door, Falkner dug into Marcus's shoulders harder. She scanned the room for Falkner and found him cowering behind someone.

"_Is that… little Mark?"_


	8. VII ::: To reason why

_To reason why_

**My mother always told me magic was just another form of lying. I wouldn't say that. It's more like an escape; a temporary sanctuary from reality. I used to love magic. But those days are gone now. In a way I guess I still practice a little magic, the lying side that is. You see, I told myself that war killed magic. No, that's a lie. The truth is:**

**I let Magic die.**

* * *

><p>"Name's Sarge. What's yours kid?" he asked me.<p>

I expected his voice to be more gruff; I guess I just assumed the worst. I knew I'd have to talk, there's no such thing as a free ride. But, to tell you the truth I didn't expect him to be so forward.

"You can call me Blackjack."

"Blackjack eh? You that guy I carried a while back?" he asked.

"Yeah, I guess I'm that guy."

Sarge grunted as he flapped his wings. You can only glide so far before gravity catches up with you, especially when you have extra weight. We were circling Doc and Tracy. I'll admit that I was a little sad to see say goodbye to _him_. Understand that I didn't want to leave _him_, it's just that I needed… some time to sort out my feelings. Anyways, It's only a matter of time now. With a name like that how can he resist.

"You're my first…" Sarge said.

The way he left the words hanging you could tell he was begging me to give him an opportunity to spill his guts out. I guess it wouldn't hurt to let him have some fun. If he wants to relive his glory days, why not give in?

"First what?"

I'm a mediocre actor, but when you can play an instrument well that doesn't really matter. You just tell them what they want to hear and the audience will sing for you.

"First civilian rescue," Sarge said.

Subtly thy name is Sarge. Way to slip that casually into the conversation.

"Civilian?"

I put way to much inflection on the end there, but he didn't notice. Hey, if he gets to play I can play too. It's going to be a little risky, sure. But, it's not like he'll tell anyone. I may have not picked my name, but I do dabble in gambling occasionally; just not with money.

"I used to be in the Sky force you know," Sarge's eyes were probably wistful now. He was probably remembering his youth, his friends... It's true what they say about war; that it's the best and worst time of your life on any given day. I wonder if we would have been enemies then.

"Which side?"

"Johto, why ya ask? You a soldier too?" Sarge asked.

It's a good thing he was never captured, because he sure was easy to work. I probably should have lied to him. That would have been the smart move for sure. But my damn pride got in the way again.

"Yeah, only in the last year though... Johto like you."

Technically that's not true. You're still at war during an armistice. I fought during the armistice. Of course that wasn't really part of the war...

"It wouldn't have mattered anyways now, you're still a brother in arms." Sarge said.

I think brother in legs would have been more appropriate, seeing how we all have legs. I know the phrase refers to the weapons, but the pen is mightier than sword and all that.

"So you were a sergeant I take?"

"No. But I would have liked to be one." He said with a hearty laugh."Guess that means I'm still one to zero," he muttered to himself.

I don't think he wanted me to hear that. Having big ears has its perks, the only secrets that get kept are your own. Can you call something a secret when only you know it?

"I was in the 47th Sky Unit, what about you?"Sarge asked.

Another question I should have lied to. But, sometimes the truth just leaps right out no matter what the consequences. Maybe I was the one being played, I swear this guy makes me talk like a drunkard.

"Special Forces."

I hope _he _doesn't develop his ability, otherwise I might have some explaining to do. Hopefully that day won't come... until I'm ready.

"Wow, special forces! Forgive me for saying so, but a lot of you guys are real nutjobs," Sarge said.

Full of tact that one.

"Yeah, that's true."

We both laughed. This conversation was actually kind of nice. War isn't so bad when you look at the grand scheme of things. A lot of people die, but nobody remembers the good things that war brings.

"So how'd you get set free while I got stuck playing ambulance?" Sarge asked.

Oh boy, didn't see that one coming. That's one hell of a complex answer and I'm not going to blab my whole life story to this guy. This time I played it smart and lied.

"I joined with a trainer and got out with one."

"Wish that was me," Sarge said, "never had a trainer, always just been government property."

It's funny how one of the worst things about war is its ending. You fight for some cause, risking your life and then you have to just go back to normal life. It can be devastating.

"Well I'm glad you are. I could have been in a real bind back there."

Yeah, I felt a little bad for the guy. Is it so wrong to care about how someone else feels?

"How does a nutjob like you end up beaten by a branch anyways?" Sarge asked. I could tell he intended it as a joke.

"Must be going soft in my old age."

"Ha! Know what you mean!" Sarge bellowed.

It wasn't that funny. Remind me never to get him to laugh again, I nearly fell off this time. Heights have never been my strongest suit. Based on my brief brush with gravity, I'd we're almost in Violet city now. I can't wait until we get there. As much as I love to chat all day, I'd much rather be back on terra firma while I do so.

"So, you got a family?" Sarge inquired unknowingly.

For those of you not versed in the subtle nuances of casual conversation, long awkward pauses mean: Don't go there.

"Yeah I had a family."

"Never got the opportunity myself, always put it off," Sarge said.

We landed outside of some restaurant Doc and my 'trainer' were going to. Hopefully, Doc would put Sarge back in his ball before his foot came out his ass. With talons like his I'm surprised he hasn't died from internal bleeding by now.

"Well don't you want to tell me all about them nutjob?" Sarge said with a laugh.

And he goes for the double stuff! The judges are _very_ impressed.

"I had a mate and a daughter once."

"I'd like to talk to them someday," he said.

"I don't see them much."

That was an understatement.

Fortunately, Doc put him back in his ball, meaning I wouldn't have to talk to him anymore. Sure the conversation was nice for a little while, but I like to keep my personal life to myself. It may mean something else entirely, but _'don't ask, don't tell'_ is a policy I can really get behind.

* * *

><p><strong>Magic and happiness are kind of the same. You can trick yourself while you're watching the show, but later on you're going to wonder how it worked...<strong>


	9. 8 ::::: Farewell Alcyone

_Farewell Alcyone_

"Mark! Fancy meeting you here," the woman cried out as she ran up and embraced him. She hadn't changed much since he'd last seen her; she no longer towered over him and her hair was a different color, but she was still pretty much the same.

Marcus breathed a sigh of relief. _"She must of forgotten," _he told himself. "How long has it been, five years?" she asked as she squeezed him tighter. "Jan- can't- breathe," Marcus managed to say hoarsely. Between Falkner and Janet, Marcus thought his eyes were going to explode. "Oh sorry Mark," she let go of the hug and stepped back.

"How've you been?" Janet asked. "Same as always you know," Marcus flashed a smile, "I didn't know you were into medicine?" The comment seemed to irritate her a little.

"Physics actually," Janet corrected him. Marcus was starting to regret avoiding her for all these years. They had been really close when they were little and he had missed her. Needless to say, he was happy to see her now.

"Falkner I see you've met Marcus," Janet put on her sing-song voice again. _"Damn so close," _thought Falkner. He was almost out into the lobby before Janet managed to spot him.

Falkner turned around slowly, resigned to his fate. He needed some time to think. "Yeah me and…" he looked at Marcus, frantically trying to remember his name.

Marcus understood what was going on now. His mom unconsciously raised the volume level of her voice when she talked on the phone, even when the conversations were supposed to be kept secret. More than one conversation had focused on Janet's more … _aggressive _behaviors.

He mouthed his name to Falkner. "…Markets," Falkner said. Falkner had never been very good at lip-reading. Janet was too oblivious to notice Marcus desperately signing his real name to Falkner. Falkner mouthed a 'thank you' to Marcus. Unfortunately for Falkner, Janet was still standing next to Marcus.

"Falkner! I'm not that kind of girl!" Janet said coyly. Falkner shuddered a little. "Yeah me and Marcus?…" he glanced at Marcus for approval, Marcus gave him a thumbs up,"…were going to have an unofficial battle, one-on-one."

"I thought you said the gym was closed for the conference?" Janet asked demurely, sidling up next to the uncomfortable looking Falkner.

This was news to Marcus, but given the lack of people willing to pay to get seats during the conference, it shouldn't have surprised him. He frowned at his stupidity. Then he smiled to himself; doing a favor for a gym leader and getting to test the waters before an official battle could only lead to good things.

"That's why he said unofficial," Marcus said quickly, saving Falkner's ass. Falkner gave another silent 'thank you', this time nodding his head to avoid an uncomfortable situation.

"I guess that makes me an unofficial cheerleader," Janet declared, "though I don't know who I should be cheering for." "The cheerleader's cheer from the stands," Falkner said hastily, a hint of irritation in his voice. Janet reluctantly moved into the stands with the students, who had all put down their books to enjoy a free show.

Falkner paused as he decided which pokémon to use. It had been a while since he had actually decided which pokémon he would use. The league used a complex statistical algorithm to assign values to trainers and would pick semi-evenly matched teams for him during official battles. A few years ago there was a huge scandal involving some of the people the league employed to refine the algorithm and illegal gambling, but Falkner did not care about that. Falkner wanted to make the battle last for as long as possible.

Unfortunately for Falkner, Marcus was far less skilled then he anticipated.

* * *

><p>"Go Altaria!" Falkner sent out one of his more defensively minded pokémon. The altaria floated gently down after being called out, preening its cotton-like feathers casually. Marcus thought about what pokemon to send out. He wanted to test out his new spinarak, but he wasn't completely unaware of type-weaknesses. Marcus knew he was going to lose this match, but he still wanted to put up a good fight; this battle was pretty much about helping Falkner plan an escape after all.<p>

"Go growlithe," Marcus called out weakly. Laura wagged her tail as she eyed the large blue bird.

"Laura use Bite!" Marcus commanded. "Grace Protect!" Falkner countered. The growlithe went for the neck as it had seen Blackjack do that morning. The altaria moved its wings in front of itself and the growlithe only got a mouthful of cotton-like feathers.

"Now use sing!" Falkner commanded. The growlithe curled up and fell asleep. Marcus shouted wildly trying to wake his sleeping pokémon up. "Dance Grace," Falkner said. The altaria struck a variety of poses, moving faster as it did so. The league did not normally interfere with how gym leaders chose to battle, but audiences were always thirsty for action so he did not normally get to use this kind of strategy.

"Grace use Aerial Ace!" Falkner commanded. The powered-up pokémon slammed into the sleeping growlithe, knocking it out cold. _"Looks like I overdid it," _Falkner mused to himself. Both trainers recalled there pokémon.

* * *

><p>"Oh Falkner , that battle was great," squealed Janet as she ran up and embraced him in an unwanted hug. "I already told you, my names not really Falkner; that's just more of a- "Falkner started explaining. "Isn't he a wonderful boyfriend Mark?" Janet completely ignored Falkner. "Boyfriend! We went on one date!" Falkner cried out. "Mark, why don't you join me a Falkner for dinner?" Janet asked. Falkner restrained his urge to smack her and breathed deeply.<p>

"Listen Janet, I'm going to leave tonight for an indeterminate amount of time on business, so I can't make it," Falkner said, pretending to be upset.

"Oh, can't it wait till after dinner?" Janet pouted. "No I'm consulting with the JNP, on an operation," Falkner sensed her next question and quickly countered, "I'm afraid it's very classified."

"Oh well, if it's for national security…" Janet was disappointed, she smiled, "You'll have to show me some sexy spy moves when you get back." She released Falkner's arm. Falkner closed his eyes and tried to remain calm. "I'm sorry about your dinner," he said.

"No, we can still go Mark! Wait here I have to go make a call," Janet announced.

Falkner sighed in relief once Janet was out of earshot. "Thanks man, I really owe you one," Falkner said. "No problem," replied Marcus with a little grin. _"I just got a friend who's a gym leader. I have connections!" _he silently cheered in his head.

"Hey sorry about the blowout, I don't really get to use much real strategy and I might have overdone it a little," Falkner said, "Call me when you want a rematch." Falkner handed over a business card. "You better leave before she changes her mind. Once Jan sets her mind on something she doesn't stop till she gets it," Marcus told him. Falkner thanked him again and slipped away quietly.

"It's going to be a party of four-," Janet said, "Hey where did Falkner go?" "Uh, he had to leave right away," answered Marcus. "Oh, I just had to call my friend to confirm," Janet said. "You'll love him, he's great," she said with a sweet smile. Marcus smiled back, he was eager to catch up with Janet after all this time.

"Race you there!" Janet shouted in his ear. She took off running towards the nearest restaurant. "That's not fair!" Marcus panted after catching up with her at the restaraunt. "That's what the loser always says Mark," Janet replied, "My friend is over there." Janet pointed to the table. It wasn't until Marcus got close that he recognized who it was.

"Hey did you order yet?" Janet asked. "No we were waiting for you," Paul said, he put down his menu. At first, Marcus was extremely confused but when he noticed Blackjack peering out from under the table , confusion turned happiness and then to horror. _"If Blackjack is here then, Tracy…"_

He suddenly felt the urge to vomit. "Well, well, well," said Tracy as she walked back from the bathroom, "I've been gone for a few hours and you've already gone and got a girlfriend." 

_"This isn't happening, this can't be happening," _Marcus told himself.

"Yeah, Mark here gave me a thousand dollars so I could be his arm candy," Janet replied playfully. "A thousand! Marcus only gave me eight hundred!" Tracy said in mock outrage. The two girls laughed.

"Hi I'm Janet, you've already met Mark here," Janet said, "Mark this is my friend Paul." "I'm Tracy, nice to meet you Janet," Tracy said, "I'd love to be your maid of honor."

"That's not going to happen. Not unless we move to Unova," Janet continued to play along.

"Janet, this was the girl I told you about," Paul said."Amnesia gal? and here I thought you'd finally gotten a girlfriend Paul," Janet teased, "Since when do you know Mark, Paul?"

"He's the other guy," said Paul calmly, trying to avoid looking embarrassed by her statement.

"Really!" Janet exclaimed. She turned to the panicking Marcus and slapped him on the back. "I didn't know I had a hero in the family," Janet beamed.

"Uh, Paul why aren't you…" Marcus couldn't get the words out. "There's some restriction going on or something," Tracy said, "I don't have a pass, so it looks like I'm stuck for a while."

"Where will you stay? All the hotels are all booked up," Janet asked. "I have an extra bed if you want to stay with me," Janet offered. Marcus remembered the key Paul had given him and handed it back to him. "I guess you'll be needing this back," Marcus smiled sheepishly. "Oh thanks," said Paul.

"No thanks, Paul already offered his room," Tracy replied, "besides Marcus is going to need a place to stay now."

When the meals were finished they retreated back to the hotel. Paul and Janet had rooms on the same floor so they agreed to wake each other up in the morning for Paul would leave for Azalea town and Marcus would begin training for his rematch with Falkner. Janet and Tracy would spend some time touring the conference. They were already talking like they had been friends forever.

It was one of those rare moments in life when place and purpose coalesced into a great peace. It was one of those moments that could bring hope when times looked bad. It was one of those moments that tortured the elderly in their later years. They would all see peace again, but it wouldn't never be this pure.


	10. 9 ::::: Uncertain principles

_Uncertain Principles_

By the time it was 6:07, Janet had already been awake for over an hour. The florescent light that hung next to the window had prevented her from falling back asleep, but that had stopped awhile ago. It was the buzz of her own thoughts that kept Janet awake now.

Janet turned to a more comfortable position, trying to be as quiet as possible. Marcus had always been a heavy sleeper so she had little to worry about, but she was still afraid she would wake him.

_"He looks so peaceful in his sleep," _Janet thought. Marcus always had that uneasy air about him."_Twenty-two minutes and I'll end that peace," _thought Janet. She couldn't stand the sight any longer and shifted back to the other side. _"I'll end his peace," _she repeated in her head.

She still felt a little responsible for their growing apart, it was her reaction that made him avoid her. She wanted to suppress that memory, but it lingered and tore her up inside. _"If only I had paid attention," _she thought bitterly to herself. Instead of paying attention to that speaker, she had been trying to control her expression. She had missed a lot of the presentation as a result. All she could remember from it now was the ridiculous catch phrase the presenter had used. "_Maybe I could ask Paul if he took any notes," _she thought to herself. She looked back at her sleeping cousin.

"Mark is psychic," she whispered faintly. She had been denying it for such a long time.

Psychic pokémon had been studied intensely, with many researchers eventually giving up and calling the phenomena unexplainable. It was like dark matter for astronomers or the brain for doctors. Psychic phenomena was every physicists embarrassing problem. For a long time biologists and physicists alike had declared that psychic pokémon were vastly more intelligent than humans, but experiments had proved otherwise.

Janet tried reaching out with her mind. She tried to access that extra appendage, the psychic appendage. Nothing happened.

She felt relieved. She had never feared Marcus. She feared for him, but she never feared him. Psychic humans were almost always frauds, but those who weren't almost always went insane and died prematurely. She didn't want to see her cousin become corrupted by his ability.

She watched him sleep for a little bit and thought about the way he acted. _"How could I think that, he saved Tracy for arceus sake!" _she yelled at herself mentally. Somebody who saved someone's life could not be corrupt.

This thought process made her return to her greatest fear. The fear that psychic ability was genetic. That she had the same power as he did. She still had an occasional nightmare in which strange men took Marcus or her off to some secret lab where they would perform bizarre experiments. That she would sit in a cage and be tortured. Being part of the scientific community did not put her at ease. She would sometimes imagine her well-meaning peers examining her, cutting little pieces out of her and Marcus to see if they could cure some disease. Curiosity is man's greatest ally and foe after all.

_"Probably why I never liked biology,"_ she mused to herself. The small joke was of little comfort."_Maybe I ought to talk to him, see if I can help him," _Janet thought. She glanced at the clock. Three minutes left. She got out of bed a shook him gently.

"Mark you get the first shower," she told him. He looked at her and smiled. "Thanks Jan," Marcus said. She said nothing as he went to take a shower. _"Damn it, I'm such a coward," _she chastised herself. She thought of his smile. _"Maybe I should let him decide," _she told herself. She devised a little test and waited for him to get out of the shower.

"Okay your turn," Marcus said, that same stupid smile plastered on his face. "No, I'll take one after breakfast, you took way too long in the shower," Janet said. "Oh, sorry about that," Marcus said, he opened the door. "Hey Mark wait," Janet called out. Marcus turned around and saw her holding out something. "If you want to get back into the room, you'll need a key," Janet said, her voice was extremely shaky. Marcus took the key cautiously. "Thanks Jan," he said quietly. She watched him walk down the hall then started to follow. _"Guess he isn't ready," _she thought.

All she could do now was wait for him to be ready.

* * *

><p>Breakfast was enjoyable. The bagels were stale and the food was undercooked, but it was nonetheless enjoyable. "Well I better be off," said Paul. The dining area was beginning to fill up with people. The four followed Paul outside, Tracy helped him carry his bags. He released his skarmory into the clearing and Marcus helped him attach his bags to the pokémon. "Hey, I'll stop by when I get to Goldenrod," Marcus told Paul. "Yeah, I hope you do well with your gym battle," Paul said. The three waved goodbye as the skarmory took off. "Till we cross that river again Marcus and Tracy," Paul called out.<p>

"Okay what's the plan Mark?" Janet asked. "We're going to get some better road clothes," Tracy said. "I'm going to clean up and get you a visitor's pin," Janet said.

"Great, meet us at the store, you know the one, right?" Tracy said. Janet indicated yes and hurried back to the hotel.

"So what are you going to do all day Marcus?" Tracy asked.

"Jan said that the some of these conference people carry pokémon," Marcus said, "so I figure that I can convince at least one or two to hold a little battle with me." Tracy smiled at him and he gave a little smile back. The two reached the shop.

The shop was clearly new, it had that proud quality in its architecture. Manikins were on display throughout the shop, forever frozen in 'active' positions. There were no other costumers in the shop.

"Hello, is anybody here," Marcus called out. A man in a uniform ran out from the back. "Welcome, have you ever been here before?" the uniformed man asked. "Uh, no" Tracy replied. "Get me two!" the uniformed man shouted back to someone at the counter. "All you have to do is point them at what you'd like to see and you'll get all the specs you need," the uniformed man explained. Another uniformed man holding some playing cards gave them scanners.

"Dude, let's get back I'm winning," the other uniformed man said.

"Some of us actually do our job," the uniformed man said to his coworker, "Just holler when you need something."

"If they have these then why do they need to hire those clowns?" Marcus asked once they were out of earshot. Tracy was already running around and scanning things. Marcus examined the scanner. _"Aha, a catalog feature," _Marcus thought to himself. Marcus flipped through the database, feeling smart for actually looking. His smugness soon faded when he saw all the catagories. _"Flammability? Who's looking for that in a shirt?" _he thought to himself. By the time he found a few items he liked, Janet had arrived with Tracy's visitor's pin.

"What about that one?" asked Marcus. "Nope" said Tracy. Marcus figured he could use Janet's help picking out clothes. "That one looks nice," Janet said. Marcus looked at the shirt. It was perfectly compatible with him. "Can I see this one?" Marcus asked the clerk. "That one's just in," the uniformed man said. He pulled out the shirt in Marcus's size and stood outside the changing booth while Marcus changed. "…advanced wicking, fire retardant and it doesn't wrinkle," the uniformed man finished his long list of memorized shirt properties. Marcus looked at himself in the mirror. It suited him perfectly. "How much for it all?" Marcus asked. "For everything 237.89$," said the uniformed man.

Apparently, the shirt didn't suit his wallet as well as he thought. "Uh maybe I'll have to find something cheaper," Marcus said. He only had 106$ and a cent on him. "Come on Mark, you're not going to be buying any more clothes for your entire journey," Janet said.

"Jan I don't have enough cash on me," Marcus whispered. "Oh, I'll cover for you," Janet said. She gave the clerk her bank card. "No I have to pay for my own stuff Jan," Marcus cried out angrily.

"Consider it an investment, just pay me back when you finally win," Janet said. Marcus reluctantly accepted, he didn't like incurring debt, but Janet always got her way.

"Tracy I'm done," Marcus called out.

"Well give _Marcus_ a gold star he's a big boy now," Tracy called back. Janet stifled her laughter. "Hey mind if I ask you for a favor?" Tracy asked.

"Yes," replied Marcus.

"Can you take care of Blackjack for the day? He's been really moody and I-""Yeah I'll take him along," Marcus interrupted.

"Thanks, he really seems to like you," commented Tracy. "Yeah I like him too," Marcus said. Tracy tossed him her spare room key. Marcus caught it and ran off to get Blackjack. "I swear that pokémon is practically his," Tracy muttered to herself.

"So what do you think?" Tracy asked Janet. "It looks great," Janet said. "Then I'm good for the day," Tracy called over the uniformed clerk and got him to start ringing up her clothes.

"What's adventure like?" Janet asked Tracy. "Okay, that was kind of random," Tracy said. Janet's face went a little red. "How is it? Out on the trail with Mark," Janet asked cautiously. She didn't want to make Tracy suspicious. "Oh Marcus," Tracy said, "He's pretty quiet, a little bit immature at times, but quiet mostly." The uniformed man brought back Tracy's new clothes. Her old clothes had been torn a little when Paul and Marcus carried her and she didn't need that.

"So he's just quiet then huh?" Janet asked. She was mentally taking notes. Ever since that morning, Janet had been picturing various ways to encourage her cousin to talk to her. Most of her hypothetical situations involved talking together to a roaring campfire under the blanket of night. Janet had always loved the outdoors. She loved the smell of the air. She loved the way the leaves rustled in the wind. She loved that waves helped prove that heavenly bodies act upon each other with a force inversely proportionally to their distance squared.

Janet rarely spent time outdoors as a child, one of the side-effects of her parents working on the weekend.

"Marcus isn't some crazy killer is he?" Tracy asked, "I'm not going to wake up someday with a knife at my throat am I?" Tracy and Janet laughed. "No! He's promised he's stopped," Janet said in mock outrage.

Tracy and Janet wandered aimlessly through the streets. This was certainly going to be an interesting day.

* * *

><p>"Hey Blackjack I brought you a muffin," Marcus said as he opened the door to Tracy's room. Blackjack lifted his head slowly and said nothing. "I hope you like blueberry, you'll need to eat it on the floor so you don't get crumbs on the bed," Marcus said, cheerfully offering the muffin. Blackjack gave Marcus a weak smile and went back to lying on the bed. "Blackjack what's wrong?" Marcus asked, "We didn't talk at all yesterday."<p>

"Were not supposed to be able talk," Blackjack pointed out.

"You didn't answer the question," Marcus said. He was growing concerned.

"I'm just tired that's all," Blackjack responded. Marcus decided not to press him further. _"He probably just misses the wild or something," _Marcus reasoned.

"So did you come just to get me a muffin or are you going to do something else," Blackjack said, getting off the bed. "Yeah we're going to go do some training, Tracy asked me to babysit you, so I'm taking you along," Marcus informed Blackjack. "But first I have to ask my mom to send me some cash, I had to borrow money from Jan and it was really embarrassing," Marcus said. Blackjack looked confused.

"Oh Janet's my cousin, she was the person I was with yesterday at dinner, you'll like her she's really nice," Marcus said.

_"I can't believe I never thought about his family…" _thought Blackjack. "I'm sure she is," Blackjack said.

"Great," Marcus smiled, "After I call my mom we'll get lunch and then go train okay?"

"Lunch is fine with me," said Blackjack.

* * *

><p>"… it's going to start soon," Tracy said. "I know but this stupid map is too complex," Janet said. After a light lunch Tracy had insisted that they get Janet's only requirement checked off her list. Lunch had taken longer than they had anticipated and thanks to Janet's lack of navigational skills, they were now in danger of missing Professor Woodrow's famous 'On doing research' presentation.<p>

"No! I don't care about population density, just give me the map!" Janet yelled at her pokedex.

"Janet maybe I should hold the map," Tracy offered nervously. "No," Janet put her pokedex away, "Let's just ask someone for help." Tracy scanned the area for people who could help them and found a small group of boys standing in a circle, laughing. "They'll help us," said Tracy. "Tracy, let me-" Tracy had already ran off.

"Excuse me, do you know where Professor Woodrow is?" Tracy asked the shortest student. The students completely ignored Tracy, they were too busy paying attention to the student in green.

"Ahem! Excuse me," Tracy said.

"…So then he says to the doctor: I thought you said every half-hour!" the student in green finished telling some joke. The group busted out into laughter.

"Tracy I don't think they're going to be much help, we should ask someone else," Janet said, catching up to Tracy.

Tracy wasn't giving up, she tried a new tactic.

"Why is six afraid of seven?" Tracy called out confidently. The group of boys turned and looked at her, stunned by her intrusion. After a few uncomfortable seconds of silence the student in green said, "Because nobody's perfect!" The group's laughter became an uproar.

"Janet I don't get it," Tracy suddenly felt very intellectually small. "C'mon let's go Trace," Janet started pulling her away from the jeering crowd of boys.

"Janet Green?" the student in green said, "_The_ Janet Green?" Tracy prevented Janet from getting away. "Yeah what of it," Tracy said, she was ready to pick a fight. "My friend told me she was the slut of the school," the student in green said smugly. Neither Tracy nor Janet had any response prepared. The student in green turned to his friends.

"He said she came in every flavor but charm: strange, top, bottom…" the student in green made an obscene gesture, "Up and down!" Some of the friends gave a little chuckle, but they were starting to feel uncomfortable. "You take that back!" Tracy yelled. Janet held her composure.

"What do you do?" Janet asked. "Applied mathematics, why need some help counting one dollar bills," the student in green sneered.

"Dude knock it off, you're going over the line," the shortest student told his friend.

Janet gave a wicked little grin. "Applied mathematics huh? How'd you get in without knowing Calculus? I bet you've never integrated a natural log," Janet said with a smirk. A few of the boys laughed at Janet's comment and the student in green went red in the face. Janet pulled Tracy away from the crowd and left before the student in green could come up with a comeback. "I didn't understand a word anyone said," Tracy said.

"Hey, did you say you were looking for professor Woodrow?" the short boy inquired. "Why do you care?" Tracy asked. "Look we're sorry 'bout Mark, he's just a little grumpy after this morning," the short boy explained. _"He's a little something alright," _Tracy thought. "It's fine," said Janet, "Can you tell us where he is?" "Yeah he's just down that road by the pink building, you can't miss him," said the short boy.

"Thanks for your help, I guess you all aren't assholes," Tracy said to the short boy as he ran back to his friends. Janet gave Tracy a little smile that Tracy returned. The two followed the short boy's instructions and found themselves where they wanted to be.

* * *

><p>"Charles return," Marcus said, putting the spinarak back into its ball. The small crowd that had gathered was already beginning to dissipate. "Thanks for helping me test my theory; I think there is an anomaly in the…" Marcus did not pay attention to what the researcher was saying. He was floating on the high of his first victory. "No problem," Marcus said with a smile as he shook the researcher's hand. The researcher wandered off, muttering to himself like a crazy man.<p>

"Blackjack it worked! You're a genius!" Marcus could barely contain his excitement. "Hey, keep it down. There are people staring," Blackjack said. A few people gave Marcus a weird look, but they soon dismissed him as a crazy person and turned to their affairs. Marcus pulled out his pokedex and pretended he was talking to someone on the phone. "It actually worked I won, this is the greatest feeling ever" Marcus said giddly. "It was a pretty basic strategy…" Blackjack said modestly. "It was a great strategy," Marcus replied.

Marcus had finally won a battle. After being crushed in his first two battles of the day, he was on the verge of quitting and going home with his tail between his legs. When Blackjack stepped in and gave him a few pointers, Marcus managed to defeat his third opponent.

"Don't get cocky, you made a lot of mistakes," Blackjack said. "Can't you let me have my fun?" Marcus asked playfully. He picked up Blackjack and gave him a hug, then put him back down. "You think I'll be ready for Falkner?" Marcus asked. "No," Blackjack said bluntly, "Not unless you do some serious training this week." Marcus's smile turned into a disappointed grimace. _"He didn't have to say it like that…" _Marcus thought. "You'll help me train right?" Marcus asked. "We'll see," responded Blackjack.

* * *

><p>"That was amazing," Janet beamed. "Yeah, I didn't understand it all, but what I did was pretty good," said Tracy. "I'm glad you enjoyed it girls," the professor said, "Though, I do think I botched the collaboration metaphor this time." Janet was stunned. She couldn't believe she was speaking to one of the greatest scientific minds of modern times. She began to shake a little with nervous excitement. "I thought it went well," Tracy said. "Ah, yes Tracy was it? I was just talking to a colleague of mine about you, I take it Paul couldn't get you to Goldenrod. How are you holding up?" the professor asked.<p>

"_Tracy knows professor Woodrow? Paul knows professor Woodrow!" _Janet thought. "More and more comes back each day," Tracy responded. "That's good to hear," the professor said, "I see you've made a friend." "Yeah this is Janet," Tracy said. "H-hi, its n-nice t-t-to m-meet you," stuttered Janet nervously. Her voice went up about seven octaves. "It's good to meet you to," the professor said, "Well I have to give another presentation now, hope you get better soon Tracy."

"Janet, you're freaking me out," Tracy said. "What do you mean?" Janet asked incredulously. "Er… you kinda," Tracy looked at Janet and sighed, "never mind." "No! Tell me!" Janet demanded. "Tell you what?" asked Marcus. Janet nearly jumped out of her skin at Marcus's sudden arrival. "Marcus what are you doing here?" Tracy asked. "I just wandered over here when I saw the professor, I wanted to see how S…" Marcus cut himself off.

"We were listening to a lecture by him," Tracy explained, "He just wanted to check up on me."_"Does everyone know him but me?" _Janet thought. "How was Blackjack?" Tracy asked. "He was good luck, I won three battles today," Marcus said with a smile. "But, you still lost to that kid," Tracy said.

As Janet watched the two bicker, she realized how little she shared in common with the two. Although they didn't see eye to eye, Marcus and Tracy were bound by shared experience. Tracy's experiences with Marcus were all she had now. _"We've both changed," _Janet told herself. Janet felt as if a churning gulf separated her from her cousin. Guilt had oppressed her for far too long and Janet needed to feel at ease again.

Being with nature would just be a fringe benefit.


	11. X ::::: Anicca

_Anicca_

**A few days ago Tracy took me to see the historical sites of Violet city. She said she was "scienced-out" and needed to spend some quality time with her pokémon before **_**he **_**could completely win me over. It was a nice break, except I've never been a big fan of history; too ambiguous if you ask me. People who write history always twist it, no matter how hard they try not to. **

* * *

><p>Tracy has most of her memory back now. She says that she remembers everything but the last couple of months before she got injured. I guess that's a good thing, because then she'd know that she not really my trainer. Not that she does much for me...<p>

"Blackjack I'm so nervous," _he _said.

"You'll do fine, just remember what I told you."

I tried to sound confident, but honestly I don't think _he'll_ win. Not that I don't think _he's_ good, it's just that practice in the woods and fighting nerds is no substitute for real battles. I just don't think _he _has the experience and knowledge required to win.

"Come on Blackjack we get to sit in the team box," Tracy said.

Why do they always pick me up! I have dignity! It actually hurts to be picked up you know.

"Marcus! Testing! This is Tango Romeo Alfa Charlie-"Tracy said.

"-Knock it off! It works!" _he _yelled.

"Kick his ass!" Janet screamed.

I may not know Janet very well, but from what I've heard she doesn't take rejection very well. _His _'team' might actually do him more harm than good. The most important thing _he _can do now is stay calm and I don't think angry ex-girlfriend and Private Tracy are going to help with that.

"… master of the skies - Falkner!" the announcer blared over the sound system, "The challenger is - Marcus Green! Hailing from Vermillion city he's… never lost an official battle!"

That's technically true. _He's _never had an official battle. The announcers supposed to play up the challenger and get the audience fired up, but even this gym doesn't see many trainers with a completely blank record. It took a lot of convincing on Falkner's behalf to even let _him _battle. It's a pretty funny story actually.

"I choose you," said Falkner, "Let's make this a good match."

A skarmory huh? I wish Sarge was here so I could see if he knows the guy. With a skarmory battling first this should be an easy decision. _He _could actually win here.

"Go Charles, I mean Spinarak," said Marcus.

Oh no, Oh Hell no! The nerves got _him, he's _screwed! How could you forget the most important thing I taught you.

Confidence is _everything_.

"Why are you so worried Tracy, he would have sent Charles out sometime," Janet said.

"Yeah, but skarmory is part steel type. Steel types are weak to fire types," Tracy explained

"You're saying that skarmory is made of steel? There's no way it could lift off with a wing span that small! It has to be something lighter. That's the problem with biologists, they just lump all the pokémon together into groups with no consideration for others. My magnemite is called a steel type, but really it's an alloy of cobalt and…"

Looks like Tracy got Janet started on a science rant again. It the little time I've spent with her, she's done this about a dozen times. This is going to be the worst gym battle ever.

"Use spikes again," Falkner commanded.

"Try poison sting again," _he _said.

Well at least _he's_ using my strategy so this may not be a total blowout. I may not fight much anymore, but I still remember enough to give _him _a chance.

"No, Marcus! Steel types are immune to poison!" Tracy shouted.

Aaaaand my entire strategy goes down the crapper...

* * *

><p>"I apologize but I am weak to birds," Charles said, "I wish I could be of more help."<p>

"That's okay, if your trainer is smart he'll have you using good strategy, we'll just work on dodging attacks."

Is it vain of me to call my own strategy good? Getting poison inflicted on your enemy and letting time take them out is frowned on by most people, but we don't have many options here. It's _his_ job to get poison inflicted, all I can do is supply the time.

"We're going to have magnemite here swoop down and you dodge him."

"Yes!" magnemite showed.

Most people think magnemites are just computers, but I've heard they're part biological. They don't have a mouth so they don't really talk per se, but you can get a yes/no sort of answer by looking at their eye. Even though we don't communicate too well, Janet's magnemite is a pretty friendly guy… er girl?... genderless thing.

"Might I have some advice for dodging before we start?" Charles asked.

"Yeah I was just about to get to that. There are three things to remember about good dodging. One, do the least amount of work possible; you don't want to tire too quickly. Two, keep your eyes on your enemy. Three, you have to avoid falling into a pattern."

There were probably more secrets but that's the best I could do. I pretty much just make up everything on the spot. As long as you say something with confidence people will believe anything. That's why I think confidence is the most important thing a trainer can have. If the whole world believes something is true, it is.

* * *

><p>"Well that's just great poison sting is Charles' only attack!" <em>he <em>shouted.

"… another thing that biologists dropped the ball on, metal types can't be completely immune to poison unless they are unaffected by the toxins themselves and even then I'm sure that poison-types don't all use the same bio-chemicals. It's probably just the carapace that most steel-types have, blocking poison based attacks. I doubt that the metal is highly…"

"That's it! You'll have to land an attack on an unprotected part of the body," Tracy said.

I guess my strategy isn't completely unusable after all. He's still going to lose though, uh... knock on wood.

"Skarmory use steel wing," Falkner commanded.

"Charles just dodge and use string shot," _he _said.

I don't really see what _he's_ doing here. I didn't pay attention when the referee was outlining all the rules, but I distinctly remember the one-switch rule. You'll be at a disadvantage for a second while you regain some momentum, but at least poor Charles won't get beaten senseless without a fighting chance.

"Try another steel wing," Falkner said.

"I can't this totally nasty gunk is all over me!" the skarmory responded.

Repeat 'string shot' and 'steel wing' ad nauseum: wow this is so boring. Charles has been dodging like I've taught him to for the past fifteen minutes and half the audience is asleep. That skarmory looks like a poorly decorated ghost from all the string shot that's covering her. How much string shot can one spider hold?

"Use peck," Falkner told the skarmory.

"I better get a bath later," she grumbled.

"I'm sorry for the mess," Charles said.

Why is he apologizing, this is a fight!

"Charles, poison sting in the mouth!" _he _commanded.

Oh, now I get it! _He's _a better strategist than I thought. I'm actually pretty proud.

"Bwaaaaaa!" the skarmory howled in pain.

I can't believe that worked, _he's _much better than I thought. Too bad Charles went down, with that much string covering her I bet he really could have let her soften up with all his juicy little poisons. He put up a real good fight but the odds were just too stacked against him. Now _his_ only hope to win is Laura, I just hope I taught her well enough…

* * *

><p>"Uncle Blackjack I'm tired of this," said Laura.<p>

"I told you to stop calling me that."

Seriously, she needs to stop it's weirding me out. Ever since I've started training her she's been calling me uncle; I feel like that creepy guy whenever she says it. That's not who I want to be.

"This is boooooooring," she said.

Yeah she may be a _little_ more mature, but she's still a puppy at heart. At least she pays attention during battles, even if it's only for a little while.

"If you don't practice, you'll always lose."

"I don't wanna lose…" she said.

"Then hit me again."

One of the advantages of being an umbreon is that you can take a real beating. Throw up a light screen and fire barely hurts. I don't know light screen, but if I did I'm sure fire would hurt even less.

"How was that?" she asked.

"Not bad, take a step back."

"Why do I have to be so far away?" she pouted.

Why do ask so many damn questions! I like to think that I'm pretty patient, but she's just ridiculous.

"Because you're fighting birds and they'll be up in the air; range is what you need to practice."

"But, I'm tired" she whined.

"Fine, take a break. We'll train moving targets after lunch."

"Thanks Blackjack."

* * *

><p>"Go Growlithe!" <em>he <em>cried out confidently.

Well this is certainly a change for the better though, I doubt it'll do much for _him _at this point.

"Ember!" _he _commanded smugly.

Holy hell! I didn't know spinarak web burned so well. I would probably be yelling obscenities like that if my body was on fire. I'm just glad Falkner had the judgment to step in when he did or there could have been some serious immolation tonight. I wouldn't tell Sarge this, but it smelled pretty good...

"… bauxite. But then the crystal structure- Hey he won?" Janet asked.

Finally, she stops with her rant. As much as I'm inclined to like _his _family, Janet makes me a little suspicious. She reminds me of someone I once knew. I think I'll be watching this one.

"Marcus don't get to cocky, you're down right now," Tracy warned.

She's right, I almost forgot about the spikes. I bet Tracy was a pretty decent trainer before her accident. I wonder what happened to her other pokemon?

"Go staravia!" Falkner said.

I've never seen one of those before. It looks foreign.

"Leer!" _he _said.

"Quick attack!" Falkner retorted.

I'm glad to see he's using moves that don't deal direct damage. That a sign that _he _has real potential. Of course, leer does nothing for ember, but it's the thought that counts right?

"Laura ember!"

"Wing attack!"

"Ember again!"

"Mud slap!"

"Wow this one's going by fast," said Tracy.

Okay, Tracy didn't _really_ say that. It was pretty fast, but it wasn't that fast. I kinda got a little distracted. All I'm going to say is that when you hunt for your own food, you have to take advantage of whatever comes your way.

"Speed's not good for Mark, his only advantage now is strategy," Janet said.

What happened to 'kick his ass'? She's right but come on, she doesn't have to be such a downer. I should just be happy her stupid rant is done.

"Go in for a quick attack," Falkner said.

"Let's end this, bite!" _he _yelled.

I could lie here, but let's cut the crap: _he _won! I may have got lost in the moment a little there, but I remember Laura triumphantly standing on that bird. Just because you have the chance to lie, doesn't mean you should. I think it must have been a pretty intense match, because the crowd didn't pour out a soon as it was over. They were all screaming and shouting as _he _waved the zephyr badge around.

It's funny how worked up we all get when _he_ wins that tiny hunk of metal. It hardly seems worth worth all the fuss. I guess you could say it represents the victory, but it seems like some people get more worked up about the badge. A lot of things are like that.

* * *

><p><strong>Take sprout tower for instance; the most famous site on the tour we were on. Tracy was so disappointed when the guide said that we couldn't go inside the "world's oldest tower" because it was closed for repairs. We had to settle on walking through the garden that surrounded the tower. I'll admit it was quite a lovely little garden; the way the tower reflected in that placid lake gave it this transcendental look, if that makes any sense. It reminded me of the last time I was here. <strong>

**Anyways, Tracy managed to convince a tower caretaker to let us in and we had a personal tour of sorts. The actual history of the tower was pretty dull, but the modern history really grabbed my attention. The caretaker explained that every few months they would repair the most damaged part of the tower; whether it be the walls, the floor, the roof or any of the little pieces in between. They were all periodically taken out and replaced with newer wood so that the tower wouldn't collapse on some unlucky tourist. Only the massive center column had never been replaced.**

**Personally, I wouldn't call it the 'oldest tower' if everything was torn out, a column isn't a tower after all.  
><strong>


	12. 11 :::: Dimorphism

_Dimorphism_

There was a gentle knock on the door. "Who is it?" Janet asked. "Ugh, it's Tracy," Tracy responded. Janet climbed out of bed and stumbled over to the door. "Oh were you already asleep, I didn't mean to –" "I wasn't asleep," Janet told her. Tracy stepped into the room. "Party over already?" Janet asked. "Yeah champ passed out a little while after you left," Tracy explained, "Mind if I crash here tonight?"

_"This is perfect!" _Janet thought. She tried to sound nonchalant.

"Tracy I was thinking…" Janet tried to gather her words. "You do that a lot," Tracy said. She giggled at her own joke. "Do you ever feel like you do things without really knowing why you do them?" Janet asked.

Tracy immediately felt uncomfortable. "Janet I'm not really good at this deep stuff…" Tracy said, "Is this because of Falkner?"

"No," Janet laughed and shook her head. She had forgotten about her former 'boyfriend' as soon as he left. "It's more like: when I'm old do you think I'll be happy with how I lived my life?"

Tracy thought about Janet's question. She had been thinking about her past a lot lately. "Can I tell you something," Tracy said, "When I couldn't remember anything I was really scared."

Janet looked confused. "Well anyone would be scared Tracy; you didn't know who you were," Janet responded. "That's what I was afraid of," Tracy said, "I was scared of who I was." Janet looked even more confused. "So you were afraid of remembering?" Janet asked. "It's like what if I'm a bad person or what if I didn't like what I found out," Tracy gushed.

Janet realized what she was saying. "So did you…" Janet didn't know how to say what she wanted to say. If she didn't choose her words carefully, her plan would be ruined. "Nope, all my memories are normal: friends, family and birthdays," Tracy blurted out. The girls thought about themselves. _"Wow this is really awkward," _Tracy thought. She was a little emotionally prone thanks to her exhaustion.

"I wanted to see if I could go with you guys," Janet said softly. Tracy was thankful for the subject change.

"Yeah, why not," Tracy said. "You mean it?" Janet suppressed her excitement. "Of course, why wouldn't you come with us?" Tracy said with surprise. Janet had expected more resistance. "Thank you for your approval," Janet said, "Now I just have to ask Mark." "No you don't," Tracy told her quickly. "But, he's half your group!" Janet replied. "Just tell him he let you in already," Tracy said. Janet was stunned by her sudden deviousness. "We'll get you all set up tomorrow," Tracy said with a yawn. She wasn't all that tired but she needed didn't want to talk anymore. Tracy preferred to keep her personal life personal and she hoped to never repeat her lapse in judgment.

* * *

><p>"<em>How does this keep happening to me?" <em>Marcus wondered. He trudged behind Tracy and Janet slowly as the morning sun crawled towards the center of the sky. The pokémon walked beside their owners happily, enjoying their time outside. "Come on Mark we just had a break, don't tell me your tired already," Janet teased. Marcus had cited physical fitness as one of the reasons Janet should be left behind, but unfortunately for Marcus: Janet's indefatigability applied to hiking as well as men. _"Why did I agree to take her along?" _he asked his past self in his mind.

Janet's and Tracy's plan would not be met without some resistance. "Remind me why we let you come?" Marcus asked. He knew he was going to be met with some snarky answer, but he had to say something. "You still owe me money," Janet said. Marcus knew she was purposely throwing salt in old wounds. Not only did his bank delay his money transfer, the league didn't pay in the way he had expected.

He was disappointed to learn that only televised matches gave out lump sum rewards. Falkner had handed him a pamphlet that explained in great detail what the zephyr badge entitled him too. He explained that the league had a sort of pay grade based on the number of badges a trainer earned and that he would get a small weekly allowance. Of course this meant he could not repay Janet until he got his allowance.

"I told you I would get you that…" Marcus retorted weakly. "Whatever Marcus we both know you would have cut your losses and ran," Tracy said.

"What's that sound?" Janet asked, trying to change the subject. "What sound?" Marcus inquired. "That low rumbling," Janet said. "That's probably a river or something," Tracy said. Tracy pulled out her pokedex and examined the crude G.P.S. feature. "It looks like there's a little river up ahead, that would be a good place to have lunch," she said.

As the sound of the river grew louder, the group began to notice an unpleasant smell. Soon they came to the river banks and were surprised by what they saw. It was not a beautiful clear river; it was a brown disgusting river. It was a foul torrent that sent up sprays of filthy water from brief eddies. Decaying plants and sickly yellow foam adorned the surface, forming a fetid skin that showed just how fast the murky water flowed. The trees in the middle of the river looked like drowning sailors calling out for help.

"I thought you said it was little river," Janet posited. Tracy examined her pokedex again. "It says it's a dry river," Tracy scrunched her nose up, "doesn't look all that dry."

"What are we going to do? We can't cross this!" Marcus exclaimed.

"We'll have to camp here for the night," Tracy said coolly, "If this is supposed to be a dry river then it should be gone by tomorrow." "Hey sweet, I get to try out my new tent," Janet squealed, "We'll be doing real camping, instead of that lame pokécenter crap."

"Great! Now were behind schedule," growled Marcus.

"Aw, does Marcus get grumpy when his tummy is hungry," Tracy mocked, "We'll cook Marky-Warky up some nice lunch soon." "Shut the heck up Tracy!" Marcus snapped.

Tracy gasped."_Heck_! You take that back right now you filthy mouthed little boy," Tracy said. Marcus balled his fist up in anger. Janet stepped in between the two.

"Is this some sort of hiking ritual? Do we have to piss each other off before every meal?" Janet asked with fake innocence. Marcus glowered at Tracy who smirked back at him. "Why don't you help me set up camp? And you can go get firewood and cool off," Janet suggested. Marcus thrust his pack into Janet arms and stormed off to get firewood. Blackjack followed him. "He needs to learn to take a joke," Tracy said once he was out of earshot. "You were kind of rude," Janet told Tracy. "Yeah, but still…" Tracy muttered, "Let's get this tent set up."

"Why me!" Marcus yelled. He picked up another stick and swung it. "Why should I put up with this!" Marcus shouted punctuating his statement with another swing. The stick hit Blackjack in the nose. "Ow!" Blackjack cried. Marcus's anger died down a little.

"Sorry man, you okay?" Marcus asked. "No harm done," Blackjack replied. "It's just… Ugh!" Marcus grunted in frustration and tossed the stick aside.

"Look," said Blackjack, "Everything will be fine, just think about the pokémon that got driven out by the flood." Marcus put the stick in his arms and pondered Blackjack's advice. "I bet I could catch some really strong pokémon," Marcus said, his frustration all but disappearing with the realization. "Exactly, the glass is half-full," Blackjack said cheerfully, "Let's get some lunch and get you another teammate."

"You back already? We're almost done. Set the wood over there and we can heat up some nice lunch," Tracy said as Marcus marched back into camp. "Whatever," Marcus replied. He set the wood down in the middle of the newly made stone circle and sat down to rest.

"Hey! Get back here!" Tracy shouted. Marcus ignored Tracy's shouts. Suddenly, he heard Laura barking. He went over to see what was going on. He saw all the food strewn out on the ground and his blood boiled. _"You picked the wrong day!" _he thought angrily as he followed his barking pokémon. "Hey! I heard shouting what's going on?" Janet was worried. "A nidorino stole our food and that idiot took off!" Tracy said, "You stay here, I'll go get him."

Laura outran Marcus easily and soon she found herself confronting the thief at the river.

"Give us back our food!" Laura barked. The Nidorino laughed, "I already ate it all." "Then I'll beat it out of you!" Laura growled. Laura charged at the nidorino and bit its ear. The nidorino winced in pain but managed to kick her off. "That barely hurt at all," he said, despite the attack hurting quite a bit.

Laura barked again and went in for another attack. She sank her teeth into his side, causing him to roar in pain. Laura released him and staggered backwards; one of his spikes had stabbed into her tongue and she was starting to feel a little woozy. "Why the hell would you do that!" the nidorino shouted. Laura was fading fast, but she tried to attack again and again. By the time Marcus arrived she had collapsed in a heap.

"You bitch! I was hungry!" the nidorino screamed. The nidorino loomed over the fading dog. "I'll get you," she panted. A black blur appeared and struck down the nidorino. Blackjack and Tracy had arrived just in time. Marcus returned Laura to her pokéball in a flash of red light.

He gripped an empty pokéball in his hand, ready to catch the shaken nidorino. A pokéball hit the nidorino enveloping the stunned thief in red light.

One shake

Two shakes

Caught

Tracy leaned down and pick up the pokéball. "Marcus, you can't go running off like that," she scolded him. Marcus said nothing, he just clenched the pokéball in his hand tighter. Tracy clipped her new pokémon to her belt. He seethed in anger, Tracy had caught his pokémon.

Tracy sensed his outrage. "Look I'll give you the stupid thing when we get back to camp," Tracy said.

"I don't want a handout, I want to catch my own!" Marcus shouted at her. Tracy ignored his yelling and took his growlithe's pokéball. "If you want to be a baby then you can just sit here, I'm going to get lunch!" she shouted at him. Tracy stormed off back towards camp with the pokémon.


	13. 12 :::: To kindly stop

_To Kindly Stop_

A glacier is little more than a frozen river; a creeping wall of ice that carves scars into even the mightiest of mountains. But like all things it too has a lifespan. Just because one lives in the epochs does not mean one is immortal. Conversely, a short life does not signify insignificance. For while a river of ice may in time grind a mountain into dust, a river of filth does far more for life.

The river of filth was waning. What was once a terrible torrent was now a tiny trickle. But oh! What joy did it provide in passing! Rich sediment was left in its wake. A foul mud that would nurture the seeds of a new generation. A generation that would grow and thrive and be warmed by the sun and become proud trees. A generation that would someday return to the foul mud, pulled under by its cold and steady hand.

* * *

><p>Marcus sulked by the riverside, aimlessly pacing while he vented his frustrations to nobody. He tried to focus on his anger. Thoughts about Janet's worry or of his injured pokémon needed to be quelled. If he let other emotions take root his anger would die and Tracy would win. He needed to let his anger burn his insides up like a roaring inferno.<p>

Anger is often compared to fire. An apt metaphor; both feel almost alive. Fire can lick with tongue, dance and consume a man's heart just like rage and love. With sufficient heat, a fire may become a plasma; a state of matter consisting of both positive and negative ions. It is the same with passion. Like all living things fire and passion are at once hardy and fragile: one of nature's cruelest paradoxes. They seem impossible to snuff out when we want to get rid of them. But when we want to hold on to them, a simple gesture can erase them completely.

In this instance, a simple gesture takes the form of a small rock and a man in black.

In his anger, Marcus failed to notice a small rock jutting out of the ground. When his boot met this small rock, the small rock sent him reeling into the riverbed. Marcus found himself on his back in the foul mud. He let the cool mud suck away the heat of anger as he laughed at his own misfortune. He wanted to lie there forever, but something willed him to sit up.

He saw a man clothed in black standing by the river's edge.

Although he could not see the man's face, Marcus felt an overwhelming sense a familiarity and joy upon seeing the man in black. Marcus felt his remaining anger fizzle out into a smoldering new feeling. The man in black beckoned Marcus to follow him and walked away. His anger replaced by curiosity, Marcus tried to follow the man in black through the woods. As slow as the man in black seemed, he could never get close enough to see his face.

Marcus burst into a clearing. The man in black had led him to a beautiful lake.

Marcus sat down next to the man in black. "I'm Marcus," Marcus put his hand forward timidly, intending to shake the man's hand. The man in black handed him a fishing pole. "Oh, I've never fished before," said Marcus. The man in black pulled out another fishing pole and cast it into the lake. Marcus copied his movements and cast his own line into the lake, the lure landing entering the water with a tiny splash.

Marcus and the man in black sat and fished for what seemed like years. There were so many questions Marcus wanted to ask the man in black, but every time he opened his mouth nothing came out.

There was a gentle tug on his line. Something had taken the bait! All his questions were pushed to the back of his mind.

Marcus reeled in his catch: a wooper. The little blue axolotl struggled on the end of the line, thrashing around because of the hook stuck in its mouth. Marcus tried to help the wooper, but the man in black stopped him. The man in black took the pokéball out of Marcus's hand; in all these hours he had never let go of it. His knuckles were very sore.

Marcus watched the ball shake on the ground and then stop. Marcus bent down to pick up the pokéball and hand it to the man in black. It felt like the right thing to do.

"That one got caught –" Marcus started to say, but he stopped. The man in black was gone. Marcus looked around the lake to see where he went, but there was no sign of him…

* * *

><p>"…Well I'm worried about him," said Janet. All throughout the day there was an eerie lifelessness in Marcus's movements. He did not speak and he moved as if were possessed by a spectre. At first, Janet let him have some breathing room, hoping that he would cool off and regain his usual personality. After reaching the pokécenter without seeing a change in his behavior, Janet wondered if the argument had anything to do with his change.<p>

"Who cares," said Tracy, "If he wants to play silent treatment, then I say: 'Play on asshole!'" Janet frowned at Tracy. "Maybe you could just apologize…" Janet suggested. "Apologize! What for? Catching a pokémon that Blackjack weakened or curing his pokemon while he was off doing Arceus knows what for hours!" Tracy shouted.

"I know you've done a lot for him," Janet said, "But I don't think it's you he is mad at." Tracy stamped her foot. "All the more reason for me not to apologize," Tracy pointed out. Janet sighed and got up out of her bed. "I'll go talk to him then," she said. Tracy rolled her eyes as she watched Janet move towards the door._"I can't make her go..." _she thought._  
><em>

"Fine! You've guilt-tripped me into apologizing," Tracy growled, "You owe me big time for this." Janet smiled at her newest friend. "_I can't believe I'm going to apologize to this dork," _Tracy thought to herself as she pushed Marcus's door open.

Every pokécenter had rooms that trainers could rent and this one was no exception. It was small, but it had everything a trainer would need to be comfortable. Marcus sat on the end of his bed staring at a pokéball, as if he did not trust it.

"I got Laura all healed up last night," Tracy said as she entered the room. She set the pokéball on the bedside table. "I just came to… apologize for being rude to you yesterday," Tracy choked out,_"Janet owes me big time!"_ Marcus did not respond. "Oh real mature Marcus, at least I'm trying," said Tracy angrily. Marcus looked up at her and smiled.

"Oh, sorry I was just thinking about something," he said. His smile caught Tracy off-guard. Was this some sort of trick? "So, you're good then?" Tracy asked. She began to make her way to the door not wanting to be the victim of whatever he was planning. "Can I ask you something Tracy?" Marcus said. Tracy walked back over to Marcus's bedside. "What do you want?" asked Tracy with annoyance and fear in her tone.

"When you couldn't remember anything did you ever look at someone's face and feel… familiar, like you've met them before?" he asked. Tracy sat down on the bed next to him. "Why do you ask?" she inquired suspiciously. Marcus rubbed his watch out of habit. "He reminded me of him," he mumbled to himself.

"Who?" Tracy asked attentively, this apology was going in a new direction entirely and she liked it. "My dad," said Marcus. His rubbing became slower and more deliberate.

Tracy leaned forward with curiosity. Marcus stopped rubbing the watch; he peered into its mirrored surface, his distorted image peering back at him like a phantom.

"You know why I like this pocket watch?" he said, "It doesn't need batteries." Tracy was confused, but absolutely silent. "This watch has never broken in all the years me and my mom have had it. Isn't that strange?" he asked in amusement. "You've never needed to repair it, it must have been really expensive," said Tracy, _"Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!"_

"No, it was part of a bulk buy," said Marcus with a sad chuckle, "One of twenty or so, it's nothing special." Marcus rubbed over the letters one more time. "It used to be my dad's," he whispered. Tracy said nothing. "Everyone in his squad got their own," he said. "My dad was in the Special Forces," He quickly explained. He paused and looked at the watch face again. "I must sound pretty stupid right now," he murmured. Tracy shook her head no and bade him continue.

"I hated him" he stated quietly. Everything lurched forward and all the noise of life was smothered.

"What happened?" asked Tracy with caution, her curiosity overcoming her apprehension. "He left before I was born," Marcus said coldly, "he left me and mom alone." Tracy shifted uncomfortably, not knowing what to do or say. "Mom says he had to go do one last mission; she said he was only supposed to be gone for a little while," said Marcus, "We don't know whether he's dead or alive." He stifled tears. "I don't know which one is worse," he said. He put the watch back into his pocket. "Does that make me… a bad person?" he asked with an awkward chuckle.

Tracy stood up and put her hand on his shoulder. "None of that's your fault Marcus…" Tracy tried to comfort him. Marcus sighed and looked at the pokéball again. "Thanks for taking care of Laura," he whispered.

Tracy stood there in awkward silence for what seemed like years, before finally leaving Marcus alone.

Marcus was left wondering about the familiar man. It had felt good to be so emotionally open, even with someone as obtuse as Tracy. Marcus sat in his room and pondered, slowly rubbing the watch in his pocket.


	14. 13 :::: To wait for

_To Wait For_

Hot air blanketed the night like coal. It was not a still night. Like the oncoming tide, the air crept through the grove slowly, cautiously, deliberately; as if it were guided by some terrible force. It was aware. The air marched onwards, unimpeded by pebble or mountain; it cast its sickly spell over all it touched.

The man in black moved through the oppressive air, unfazed by its grip and majesty. He stalked his prey silently, movements muffled by the enormity of his task. The man in black was a ghost, a gaunt phantom, an apparition that was compelled by a single mission. The man in black reached his destination.

It was a well: an ancient structure, used pulled life from the ground. A long time ago it had been hermitage in the sea of trees that stretched across the land, but now it lay in ruin. The water had become undrinkable, tainted by poison. In a way it still served the same purpose. It still pulled life from the ground.

The man in black watched the men periodically emerge from the well, transporting their cargo under the guise of night. They were of no concern. They did not matter. He was an observer, and he knew they would all be gone soon.

The man in black never regretted his choices, good works always require a sacrifice.

The man in black waited. The time was approaching and he would see that everything happened the way he wanted it to happen…

* * *

><p>"Breakfast time Mark," called out Janet. "Just a minute," Marcus called back. He turned down the volume on the video-phone. The conversation had lasted much longer than he had anticipated; this was going to cost him a lot. Marcus didn't care. He had just received the money his bank was supposed to send him a while ago and he felt like he could take on the world.<p>

"Mark, what are you- oh!" Janet said, walking in on his video-call.

"And who is this?" asked Sarah as she raised an eyebrow.

"I'm just his cousin: Janet," Janet reassured Sarah. The two put their hands next to the camera's and pretended to shake hands.

"I have to go to breakfast now, we'll talk more later," Marcus blurted out quickly, desperate to end the call.

"I should have been at work twenty minutes ago anyways," Sarah said reluctently, "It was nice meeting you Janet, we'll have to talk when you all get here."

"Eight right?" Marcus whispered.

"See you then… goodbye you two," Sarah said with a wink. The screen faded out in an instant.

"Did Mark just get himself a date?" Janet teased. Marcus went red.

"Me and Sarah are just friends," he replied sternly.

"Really," Janet rolled her eyes, "We're both adults, you don't have to hide your secret girlfriend."

"Girlfriend! We haven't even gone on a date yet," Marcus declared frantically. As much as he liked Sarah, he really, really didn't want to talk about sex with Janet.

"Whatever, you tiger you," Janet teased, "I saw those handcuffs-"

"-No, no, no, she's a police officer!" he cried out.

"Well, are we going to get breakfast or what?" Tracy asked.

"Mark was too busy talking to his special 'friend'," Janet told her.

"Oh really," Tracy said with a smug smile, "I bet it was that cop."

"I'll be heading off to breakfast now," Marcus stated.

"Don't think this is over Mark!" Janet called after him, "You can't hide from Janet!"

* * *

><p>"It's going to be a beautiful day," declared Janet enthusiastically. "Not that it matters, since we're gonna be stuck in a cave all day" Tracy pointed out. "That will be 211.49$," the receptionist said. "I'll get this," Marcus said with pride, "The bank gave me my money yesterday."<p>

Marcus proudly showed the receptionist his badge and handed over his pokedex. "A badge huh, I'll just take out the meals then," the receptionist muttered. Tracy slipped her own badge case to the receptionist. "I think we're good here," Tracy said confidently. The receptionist opened Tracy's badge case and handed it back to her with a smile. "Have a nice day," the receptionist cheerfully said.

"Wait, you have badges?" Marcus queried. "You're not the only trainer around here," Tracy said smugly, "How do you think I've been earning money this whole time?"

Marcus was perplexed. _"Why wouldn't she tell me?" _he asked himself. You must have a lot of badges to get the whole stay for free," Janet gushed. "I have enough," Tracy stated coolly, "Come on, Marcus can buy us torches." "Torches?" Marcus wondered aloud. "Flashlights whatever," Tracy replied with contempt.

* * *

><p>Marcus shuffled awkwardly, trying to think of way to address the problem that plagued his mind. "Listen Tracy…" he said. "I didn't say anything to Janet… about last night," Tracy said quickly. She had sensed his question. <em>"And I thought I was the only psychic here,"<em> Marcus thought. "Thank you," he whispered. "Well my bowels are empty and I'm ready to go!" Janet yelled."Let's head off then," said Tracy.

"Come on out Laura, Charles and uh… wooper," commanded Marcus. His three pokémon came out in a flash and stretched there bodies. "Wooper?" asked Janet. "I'm naming him Harry," said Tracy picking up the wooper. "It's adorable Marcus, where did you get it?" squealed Janet. The water/ground-type smiled as the girls coddled it.

"I get to name him, he's mine!" Marcus told them. They took no notice to his obnoxious whining. "Aw, Harry likes it, yes he does," cooed Tracy as she handed him to Janet.

"Time to come out Nidorino!" Tracy said. The angry pokémon came out. "His name is... uh Jerome!" Marcus bellowed. "_Ugerome_, that has to be the stupidest name I've ever heard," said Tracy. "He was supposed to be mine," Marcus pointed out, "and I said Jerome." "Fair enough, Jerome it is," Tracy said. "I guess I could let magnemite out too," Janet said. "That's everyone," said Marcus, "Now let's go!"

* * *

><p>The group shuffled along, separating into little clumps by the time they reached the cave. Blackjack and the humans were in the back, Jerome was in the middle and the rest of the pokémon were in the front. Janet taped a flashlight to her magnemite and let the pokémon-clump go on ahead in the cave.<p>

"It's dark in here," said Harry. "Yeah it sure is," Laura agreed. "Please tell us more about yourself," said Charles. The water/ground-type smiled. "I lived in a pond, then I ate something sharp, then I was here," stated Harry.

"What was it like in the pond?" asked Charles. "There was lots of water," stated Harry with the same dopey grin plastered on his face. "Uh… okay," said Laura. She looked at Charles. "He's dumb," whispered Laura. "There's no need to be rude," Charles whispered back, "Please tell us more about it."

"Are you guys my new friends?" the wooper asked. "Yes!" chirped magnemite in his own special way. "Yeah, sure we are," said Laura. "Yay!" Harry cried out. "It is good to have a new team member," said Charles. "Yeah especially if it's not that stupid thief," said Laura out of spite. "Who's the thief?" inquired Harry. "That ugly guy back there," said Laura. Jerome walked alone between the two clumps.

"I like him, he looks nice," declared Harry. "Well you shouldn't, he's an evil pokémon," Laura told Harry. "Oh, I don't like him, he looks evil," Harry said. "Don't say that, we cannot say that one is evil just because one does evil things," Charles said, "He was a criminal by necessity, not by choice." Harry looked confused. "Huh? I don't get it," Harry moaned. "It doesn't matter, he's a criminal and criminals are bad!" Laura growled, "That's what mommy said." Charles sighed and continued onwards.

The group eventually stopped for lunch. It was an odd experience eating underground, but the spelunking had made the sandwiches taste much better.

"You should eat if you want to keep up your strength," Blackjack told Jerome. "I can get my own food," Jerome snorted derisively, "I don't need charity, old man." "I guess my old man memory is faulty, I seem to recall beating a nidorino who stole some food just a couple days ago," Blackjack retorted. "That was just luck!" Jerome shouted, "There's no way a pet like you could beat me!"

Jerome charged Blackjack with a peck. Blackjack easily dodged his attack and pinned the nidorino. "There is always someone better than you," Blackjack told the squirming Jerome. Jerome kicked his legs furiously, trying to throw off his oppressor. Eventually he stopped squirming and Blackjack let Jerome stand up again. "There we go, that wasn't so hard," Blackjack ragged. "Whatever," snorted Jerome.

"It isn't so bad, Tracy makes you hunt for your own food most of the time so you'll be as independent as ever," Blackjack told him. Jerome scowled at Blackjack. "Looks like it's time to go," said Blackjack, "I suggest you get to know the others. You'll be travelling with them for a while."

The nidorino continued to glare at Blackjack as he walked away. He may not have liked him very much, but he certainly respected him. The magnemite, wooper and spinarak approached him. _"I may as well," _Jerome thought.

"I got that, but how does it work without wires?" Tracy asked. "Well its ionized so when an electric field is induced by my magnemite, the ions…" Janet continued her rant, but Marcus tuned her out.

Darkness and tight spaces make many people feel uncomfortable. Marcus was not one of those people. It made him feel at peace. Marcus pondered the mysterious man in black. _"Who was he? Why did he hide his face from me?" _Marcus asked himself. He felt as if he would meet him again very soon. In a way he was right.


	15. 14 :::: Sound and fury

_Sound and Fury_

"Isn't that illegal?" asked Marcus. "Only if you do it with money," Tracy replied. "I don't know it's the last of our food…" said Marcus.

The spelunking expedition had taken much longer than anticipated. When the group emerged from the dark caverns they were greeted by the dark night sky. After careful deliberation, the three decided that it would be best to camp overnight; they were too exhausted to continue. The plan had one flaw though, they had only packed enough food for lunch and the pokémon were too tired to hunt for food. After returning their pokémon to the hunger-free stasis of their pokéballs, the three decided on how to divvy-up the remaining food.

"We can just play for fun and split it all up evenly," Janet suggested. "Okay," Marcus agreed, "As long as it's not illegal."

Tracy rolled her eyes. "Alright, I'm dealer then," Tracy announced. "Wait, I don't know how to play," Marcus informed her. "You just try and get as close to twenty-one as possible without going over, face-cards are worth ten, aces are worth one or eleven," Janet explained.

"How do you know how to play Blackjack?" Marcus asked. "I took a probability course. I can't wait to try it out for real," Janet said excitedly. "That's the spirit," Tracy said as she started dealing cards out; she let out a sigh, "Marcus you're not supposed to show us your cards."

* * *

><p>The night went well. Marcus was not very good at the game, but he had fun anyways. The three huddled around the middle of the tent, each guarding their little piles of food. Marcus twitched uncomfortably as he played.<p>

"Just go to the bathroom Mark! I mean Arceus, you're making me uncomfortable just watching you," Janet said. Marcus shifted again. "Promise you won't cheat?" Marcus asked. "Yes, just go!" Tracy shouted. Marcus rushed out of the tent.

"Did he take his cards with him?" asked Janet. "Yes. I'm not sure I want them back," Tracy said with exasperation. Tracy and Janet counted their 'chips' as they waited for Marcus to return. "Hey, what did the guide book say about Azalea town?"Janet asked in an attempt at small talk. Tracy looked up from her small pile of food.

"It looks like there are only a couple of interesting things there," she said, "The most famous attractions are the pokéball crafting and the hot springs… oh and of course the gym for Marcus." Janet looked delighted. "I've always wanted to know how pokéballs work. I've had my own theories, one involving a low-energy-"Janet prepared for a rant but Tracy gave her a glare that told her to drop it. "-and hot springs sound fun too." Tracy shook her head "Yeah, if you like bathing with octogenarians," Tracy snickered.

"Hey guys! Bring some flashlights!" Marcus shouted with excitement as he burst into the tent, "I think I saw a UFO."

Tracy and Janet grabbed some flashlights and hastily put their shoes on. "Come on it's over here," said Marcus. "UFO's? Aren't those just legends?" asked Tracy. "That's what I thought, but then I heard something and saw a light in the sky!" Marcus exclaimed. They came to the clearing where Marcus claimed to have seen the light land.

In the center of the clearing was a black vehicle. It had two eye-like lights shining out of one side. It was boxy like a giant toy block. Four figures huddled around the back of the vehicle, one carrying a white cube. The figure with the white cube was angry with the other figures. The three watched the figures bicker for a moment before Tracy spoke up.

"Congratulations, you found a van," Tracy laughed derisively. "It looked like a UFO from the front," Marcus said sheepishly. "What do you think they're doing out here?" Janet wondered aloud. "They must have broken down," Marcus said, quickly trying to divert attention from his blunder, "We should see if we can help them."

"Don't be so fucking late next time!" the figure with the white box yelled at the figure with the helmet, "There's a time limit on this sort of thing, we only have a few hours!" "There was bad weather, I couldn't de-" The figure in the helmet looked at Marcus and stopped mid-sentence, terrified.

"Hi, do you need any- oomph," Marcus wheezed. The figure with the bandanna had punched him in the stomach unexpectedly, causing him to fall into a crumpled heap on the ground. "Hey!" yelled Janet as she and Tracy ran up to the man. The rat-faced figure and the figure with the helmet seized Tracy and Janet almost immediately. Marcus picked himself up and threw a punch at the figure with the bandanna. It hit him in the eye, causing him to yowl in pain and grab Marcus in a tight bear-hug that forced all the air out of his lungs.

The three thrashed wildly, each trying to escape their respective figures. Janet screamed for help. "Shut up! SHUT UP!" the figure with the white box, set it down and pulled something out of his pants and pointed it at Janet. Marcus instantly recognized it, but Janet did not. Janet saw what was printed on the box and thrashed and screamed harder in horror.

CRACK! A hot blade struck Janet's arm. The man had summoned fire and thunder.

* * *

><p>Blackjack jolted awake. He immediately got up and sprinted towards the source of the sound, a sound he never thought he would hear again; a gunshot.<p>

The figure had dropped the gun, not prepared the huge caliber's enormous kickback. He did not pick the gun back up, instead he reached for a bottle and a towel from the van. He soaked the towel in liquid and placed it over Janet's mouth. Her muffled screams and kicking quickly died down and her body went limp. "Janet!" Tracy shouted. She elbowed the rat-faced in the stomach causing him to keel over and let her go. "Go get help," Marcus gasped through the bear hug.

Tracy hesitated. The figure with the towel put down the bottle and picked up the gun. Tracy started to run towards the trees. The figure with the gun aimed at her.

CRACK!

He hurt his wrist and completely missed. Blackjack had bitten into his other arm. The figure with the gun swung the butt of the gun at Blackjack's head sending him crashing to the ground. _"Blackjack! No!" _Marcus screamed internally. The figure aimed the gun at Blackjack.

CRACK!

The bullet tore through Blackjack's thigh. The figure gripped the gun with two hands and aimed at the sprinting Tracy.

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!

He fired the remaining shots in rapid succession, all of them missing. The figure tossed his gun in frustration. "Go get her you idiot!" he screamed at the rat-faced figure as he put the towel over Marcus's face. The rat-faced figure staggered to his feet, took a syringe full of sedative from the van and started running after Tracy.

"You help me get these two back to the well and you take this to the client!" ordered the figure who had the gun as he handed over the white box to the helmeted figure. The figure with the bandanna tossed the unconscious Marcus and Janet into the back of the van and the figure with the gun sped off towards the well.

* * *

><p>Tracy ran through the woods. She felt like she was abandoning her friends, but she couldn't take on all of them. Especially when the one had that… thing. Tracy reached the path and stopped to take a break and orient herself.<p>

Every move she made could cost Marcus and Janet their lives. She started to run in the direction of Azalea town. The rat-faced figure tackled her to the ground. He injected the sedative straight into her leg. Tracy felt the drug climb up her leg like a creeping serpent.

The rat-faced figure went limp at the hands of the man in black. Tracy tried to crawl forward, struggling to stay aware. She fell back, losing to her rapidly locking muscles. She saw the man in black standing over her, then went unconscious.

He could not help her. He was an observer. He could do nothing but keep the rat-faced figure down and hope for the best.


	16. 15 :::: Encryption

_Encryption_

When faced with an emergency situation, different people will have different reactions. Very few will remain calm and act rationally. Some people will put themselves at a distance from the situation, telling themselves that they are in no real danger. Others will only act if they are alone.

The scientist occasionally daydreamed that she would one day receive some great commendation for one of her theories, but never thought she would see herself thrust into danger. She never thought she would be one of those people on the news, gushing about how lucky they were to be alive. The scientist liked to believe she was rational at all times; that the flaws she perceived in her peers did not apply to her.

She was wrong.

Janet's body struggled against the drugs coursing through her body. It had been a stalemate for hours, but now her body was winning. The first perception to return was touch. Janet was laying in something soft. The air was so warm, she could sleep forever. Her hearing returned next. She heard the same two noise repeating over and over again. A soft click and then a sigh like somebody breathing, but slower.

There was a growing discomfort on her hand. She tried to check it. Pain in her arm shot her into more awareness. Memories of the previous night returned to her.

She opened her eyes and saw the crumpled IV bag that had been pumping her full of drugs, bathed in a disinterested red glow. Her breathing grew faster. She turned her head to see where the light was coming from. It came from the terrible heart of the sagging kiln that sat in the corner of the room. The disinterested firelight flickered across the walls of the room. The walls were rows and rows of metal doors.

Janet sat up and ripped the IV out of her hand. She saw Marcus slumped up against the opposite wall. _"We have to get out of here now!" _she instructed herself. Her breathing was becoming more and more erratic. She tried to stand and walk towards Marcus, but a wave of nausea forced her onto all fours.

She saw what she had been laying in. Her abdominal muscles tightened and she felt her body trying to vomit. Little chunks of food, acid and spit hit the floor between her hands. She wanted to vomit more if only to take her mind away from what covered the floor, but she need to get out of there.

She crawled over to Marcus and ripped his IV out, collapsing from the strain. Marcus began to stir. She shook his leg desperately; her breathing was shallow and fast.

"Mark, Mark, please wake up Mark," she wanted to cry. Marcus sat up and looked around the room. "Where are we?" He slurred. "Mark, it's a… it's a… oh arceus! Oh arceus! We're going to die, they're going to-" "-Calm down Jan!" Marcus wheezed. "Is this some sort of bank?" he asked, taking in his surroundings.

"Mark! it's a... it's a..." Janet sobbed, "we have to get out of here before they…" She could barely speak through her sobbing. Tears were streaming down her face. "Door," he said in a raspy voice, pointing towards the door that was opposite the kiln. Janet struggled to her feet and made her way over to the door. She jiggled the handle.

Locked!

"arceus, no, no, no!" she cried out as she began jiggling the door handle harder and harder. She was a sobbing heap of flesh. "Mark, please open the door, I don't wanna die, not like that Mark, just open the door," she sobbed, pounding weakly against the door's frame.

Marcus froze, his older fear immediately making him forget about the fear of his new situation. "W-what do you m-mean?" he stammered. Janet's sobs were punctuated by sharp breaths. "I don't wanna die like that Mark, just open the door, I know you can do it, please just open the door," she pleaded. A sick realization spread over Marcus; she had remembered. _"How could I have been so dumb,"_ he thought.

There were muffled voices in the other room. A silhouette formed over the door. "NO!" Janet screeched. She was on her knees in front of the door, weeping uncontrollably.

* * *

><p><em>Tracy entered the room Why was she so small She was happy It was bright and colorful There were children laughing<em>

_ Everyone was so happy She was so happy It was her birthday How could she forget about her own birthday Nothing _

_had color She was so happy Balloons in the room everywhere cheerful children laughing Her mom and dad brought out _

_the cake with the big number _seven_ on it She was so proud She was so happy Everyone was just a face How did they float_

_ like that Everyone was a face except younger Paul and Marcus and Blackjack They were happy _ The umbreon called its

name weakly. _Young Paul cut the cake. Why was everyone faces? Everything was was black and white and very bright _

_and colorful. Everyone was faces, the faces were happy._ T_he big face cake bright children Paul float birthday was so _

_happy!She was so, so happy! _The umbreon put its paw on Tracy's shoulder and shook it. _She was so happy; so _

_, Happy! Happy! Happy! Happy! Happy! _Happy! Happy! Happy! __Happy! Happy! Happy!__ Happy! Happy! __

____Happy__HappyHappy____Happy__Happy__HappyHappyHappy__Happy__Happy__HappyHappyHappy__Happy____Happy__HappyHappyHappy__Happy____

Blackjack collapsed on top of Tracy, succumbing to blood loss after limping so far. He wasn't as strong as he used to be, but he certainly had some strength left in him these days. Tracy opened her eyes. She pushed whatever was on her chest off of her, remembering what had happened yesterday. She sat up and looked at what she had shoved away. "Blackjack?" she said. The weakened umbreon smiled; he hadn't failed after all.

Tracy picked up her pokémon and started hobbling towards town. She had to get help. She stumbled into the police station. "Hello can I help…" the clean-shaven policeman at the front said. He noticed the injured pokémon that Tracy clutched tightly in her arms. "Sarah, oh Arceus, they have them," she said, "Sarah… Sarah…"

"Woodrow!" The clean-shaven policeman shouted, "We need some medical help!" Sarah popped her head out from the planning room. "What do you need, sir?" Sarah asked.

"Woodrow, get one of the medics out here now!" the clean-shaven policeman ordered.

"If we don't strike soon, there won't be any-" the man whom everyone addressed as sir interrupted himself, "-Newbie! Pay attention!"

"Medic!" the clean shaven policeman shouted so that everyone heard him. "What is going on this is an important meeting!" Sir pounded his fist on the table. "I'll go," volunteered Paul. "No! Rookies need to stay-"

"-Tracy!" Sarah shouted in surprise. Everyone poured out of the planning room to see what the fuss was all about. "Tracy what happened?" asked Sarah.

"He thought it was a UFO," Tracy told Sarah, "but, then they got them and he had this thing that made thunder and-""-Tracy calm down you need to get you to the hospital," Sarah tried to soothe her. Paul started checking her like his training taught him, he was perfectly at ease.

"Did she say thunder?" asked Sir. "Tracy, how many were there? Can you describe them? Did they hurt you?" Sarah fired off a barrage of questions. "There were four, the one with the white box was yelling, they grabbed us but I got away," Tracy said.

"White box? Shit! Those are our guys, we gotta go now!Give me the armory key!" Sir yelled. "But, we weren't authorized," said the clean-shaven policeman. "I have clearance! They're armed and have hostages, I'm taking control of this operation. Get me to the armory!" Sir barked at the clean-shaven policeman. "Ma'am well get your friends back don't worry," Sir told Tracy.

* * *

><p>Police surrounded the ancient well , ready to fall in on Sir's command. Sir briefed the police at the entrance.<p>

"Alright men, our sources indicated that there are about twenty to thirty guys in here at least one of them armed with a gun," Sir said, "I would like to remind you that your riot shields will not stop bullets, exercise extreme caution." The police started murmuring. Sir addressed own team, "I know you don't have the proper authority to use these, but there are two hostages in there and I don't want to take any chances."

"Alright men, let's move out!"

"It'll be fine," Sarah tried to comfort Tracy and herself. "I know," Tracy replied. They waited in one of the ambulances for signs of Marcus and Janet's safety.

"Clear!" "Clear!"

"Sir you might want to take a look at this…" said one of sir's team members. Sir looked into the room. "Keep clearing, whoever did this may still be here," Sir said. Sir tried to swallow the lump in his throat. "Clear!" Sir turned his back on the room in disgust.

"Clear!"

_"Sick bastard," _Sir thought. "Sir, I heard something," one of his team members said. The team huddled around the door where muffled screams were coming from.

"J.N.P.! Get on your knees!" Sir shouted as he blew the doors hinges off with his shotgun. He dropped his threatening pose when he saw who they were.

Janet was still screaming in terror. "It's alright we're gonna get you out of here," Sir said. The team members began inspecting Marcus and Janet for injuries. Janet stopped wailing in terror. The team put handcuffs on them and helped them to their feet.

"You may want to close your eyes it's not pleasant," one of the team members told them as the escorted them out of the well. Marcus kept his eyes shut.

Janet did not.

Bright fluorescent lights shined down on the little room. The tile floor was very clean, except for the stained grout around the drain. It smelled clean too. She saw the figure that had the gun and she started screaming again.

He lay slumped against the tiled wall. His eyes bulged out. His skin was pale hue, except for his swollen neck, which was a grotesque mixture of yellow, black and purple. His gloves were stained with blood. The twisted horror in his last facial expression was obscured by his mask.

He was one of many. Just one of the many predators who were unfortunate enough to be in the wrong place at the right time.


	17. 16 :::: Schema

_Schema_

"A whole day!" Janet cried out. She was absolutely stunned by the information. "You know, Marcus is still sleeping right?" Tracy said in her typical sarcastic tone. "Oh sorry," said Janet. Janet glanced at the sleeping Marcus, and then quickly looked back at Tracy.

"A whole day," Janet muttered to herself, "Can I get something for this headache, Paul?"

"I'm sorry, you have to let all those drugs clear out of your system," Paul said.

"_All those drugs?" _Janet wondered. She looked at the small scab on the back of her hand and shuddered. She had not blocked everything from her memory.

"I'm supposed to get you in for a witness statement as soon as possible," Paul told Janet, "but if you don't feel good right now I can wait for a-" "-No. I'm okay Paul," Janet said. "Are you sure?" Paul asked. Janet gave him a weak smile and nodded her head. "I'll get ready as quickly as I can," she assured him.

Janet thrust herself out of the bed and made her way to the bathroom. It felt strange walking after sitting for so long.

"Do I have to go in for questioning as well?" asked Tracy."Huh? Yeah I think so…" Paul seemed distracted. "Then I should get ready too," Tracy stated. "No, they'll probably do you after Marcus," said Paul, "I'm going to go get Sarah." Tracy watched Paul make his way to the door. When he reached the door he paused for a second, as if he was admiring some great work of art, then made his way to Sarah's room.

The springs of the mattress groaned as Tracy sat down on Janet's bed and looked at the sleeping Marcus. She thought about what Paul had told her, what could have been her fate.

_"Best not to dwell on it," _she told herself, _"just be happy everything turned out fine." _ It still made her feel sick thinking about it. She could hate the people who tried to kidnap her, the faceless-figures who hurt her pokémon, but she couldn't hate the people who created the figures.

* * *

><p>"…report indicates that three different MOs…"<p>

"…dinner with the wife go yesterday?"

"…box with that helicopter crash."

The police station was filled with chatter as Janet ambled through it. She received a few inquisitive looks, but nobody could afford more than a moment of rest. The frantic symphony had to go on. She followed Paul through the labyrinth of paper and people to the small soundproof room in the back of the station. The man whom everyone addressed as 'sir' waited patiently inside, drumming his fingers on the particleboard table to the unyielding beat.

"Just record it, we don't need to waste time with that writing crap," Sir ordered someone on the other side of the one way mirror that dominated the left-most wall.

"Janet I'll be right over there if you need me," Paul said. Paul's sentiment was lost on Janet. She was too transfixed by Sir.

"Hey!" Sir barked, "Don't talk to my witness!" "I-I'm S-sorry," Paul stammered as he retreated to the other side of the mirror. "Hello," Janet chirped in her sing-song voice. "Yes miss…" Sir flipped through his little notebook, "Janet Green, is it?" "That's not very fair," Janet pouted, "You get to know my name but I don't get to know yours." "Err… okay," Sir was caught completely off-guard.

"I'm going to ask you a few questions regarding the incident you were involved in," Sir said. "I know this may be a little difficult," said Sir in his 'sympathetic' tone, "but can you describe your assailants?"

"Anything for you," Janet said in a sultry voice. _"Oh Janet, not now," _begged Paul in his head. The two people sitting next to him were giggling uncontrollably at the sight of their boss getting so flustered by a witness.

"All I remember is that there were four guys-" "-Can you describe them?" Sir interrupted her. Janet frowned as she tried to recall the faces. "One had a helmet on and one had a bandana and one had a…" Janet's breathing began to become slightly faster. She instinctively reached for the bandage on her arm where the bullet had grazed her.

"Easy does it, what happened next?" Sir asked in his 'reassuring' tone.

"There was a loud noise and you swooped in and saved me," she continued, skipping to the part she remembered. She stood up and hugged Sir, eliciting more laughter from behind the mirror.

"Ma'am, I'm going to have to ask you to stop touching me," Sir told her in a stern tone. Janet reluctantly stopped hugging him and sat back down. Sir sighed in relief and continued with his interrogation. His patience was wearing thin.

"What about between you getting shot and your rescue?" Sir asked bluntly. He wanted it to be over as soon as possible. "I don't really remember anything between that, it's all kind of a blur," Janet said, "Maybe if we go to dinner I'll-" "-No! that'll be all," Sir said quickly. He quickly ushered her out of the room.

"Burton, take her to the line-up and see if that guy we nabbed near the scene was one of the kidnappers!" Sir ordered his laughing team member, "Georgia, update the files, there's no way she's an acolyte!" "Yes sir," the two replied through giggles.

* * *

><p>"Tracy, he's waking up,"<p>

"It's about time,"

Marcus smiled when he saw who it was standing by him. "Hey Sarah," he said. "Hey Marcus, how are you feeling?" Sarah asked sweetly. Marcus smiled back at her. "Pretty good now, sorry I couldn't make it to dinner I got a little caught up," he joked.

"Well I was a little busy at work, we can reschedule," Sarah replied. "How 'bout tonight?" he asked. "I don't know, I have to get a statement from this really cute guy tonight, maybe tomorrow," Sarah said.

_"Oh, gag me," _thought Tracy.

"Nice to see you too, Marcus," said Tracy. Marcus's face went red as he noticed Tracy in the corner. Sarah was pretty embarrassed too.

"I'll be sure to tell Janet to knock first so she doesn't interrupt your 'interrogation'," Tracy said with air quotes. The embarrassment in the room was almost palpable.

Marcus gave Sarah a stare that said, "How long has she been here?" To which Sarah's broken eye-contact responded, "The whole time."

But eyes do not make noise and the sound of the air conditioner was becoming maddening. "I have to go feed Blackjack," Tracy said after the long silence, "You two go get lunch by yourselves." The tension lifted a little.

Marcus and Sarah gave Tracy a smile as she left the room with Blackjack in tow. "Wow I'm never going to live this down," Marcus sighed. As the two made eye-contact again, all the negative feelings washed away. "I know a great soup place, down by the station, if you…" she blushed a little, "want to get changed and I'll meet you there." Marcus pulled himself out of bed and made his way over to the bathroom.

Marcus hummed to himself quietly in the shower, his mind clouded over like the sky outside; the shower water mimicking the light drizzle that refreshed the primeval city. They would have to eat inside today, but that suited Marcus and Sarah just fine.

It was a quaint little café. It was one of those establishments that always felt a little dirty no matter how clean it was. A tired fan, warped by the weight of the dust on its blades, spun lazily. The comforting smell of soup clung to the walls. A businessman pretended to read the paper and an aging lady talked with the owner about the town's latest gossip much to the chagrin of her beleaguered husband. But Marcus was focused solely on Sarah.

"I took the liberty of ordering for you, I hope you don't mind," Sarah said as Marcus pulled out his seat.

"Not at all," Marcus said, "So how have you been?"

"It's just been work, work, work," Sarah said. She gave Marcus a little smile. "What about you? Heard you beat the Falkner, I wish I could have been there," She said.

Marcus felt his chest swell with pride, "Yeah it was pretty intense." He tried to play it off as no big deal.

"Here's your soup," the waitress said as she delivered the soup. Marcus began stuffing his face immediately; he hadn't had a good meal in two days. He noticed Sarah was just pushing the soup around with her spoon. "Did they mess up your order?" he asked after swallowing a carrot.

Sarah set the spoon down and sighed. "No I'm just not very hungry after yesterday…" she said quietly.

"Why? Nobody got killed or hurt too badly," Marcus said as he put another spoonful of soup in his mouth, "… did they?" "No," she said meekly, "I guess they got what they deserved in the end." Marcus set his spoon down. "Yeah everyone's money is safe and you caught the bad guys," he said cheerfully.

"They're all dead," Sarah stated.

Marcus felt disgust well up inside him, "… all dead?" Sarah looked down into her soup. "Yeah, we just found them all dead," she said slowly.

"It wasn't even that big of a vault…" he muttered in shock. Marcus internalized this new information. "It wasn't a vault, was it?" Marcus asked quietly. Sarah shook her head no.

"What were they doing?" Marcus asked quietly. Sarah shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "…Let's not talk about work anymore," she told him. Marcus wanted to know, but he didn't want to make Sarah upset so he let it go. The conversation picked up again. Marcus and Sarah were talking like they were long lost friends. They talked for such a long time that the management had to kick them out.

"I have a match with Bugsy tomorrow night; I'd like it if you went with me," Marcus told Sarah as he fished for his keys. "I'd love to come," she said. The two stood in front of the door, each waiting for the other to make a move. _"This is it," _he thought as he went in for the kiss. Their lips only met for a second, before they were interrupted.

"Rookie!" Sir shouted, "That is not how we get a witness statement!" Sarah retracted quickly and gasped in surprise. "I-I j-just, I-I mean-" "-Say no more," Sir said, "I'm going to get a statement in the traditional way." Sir handed Marcus a few sheets of paper. "Just write down what you saw and give it to me tomorrow," Sir said, "hopefully you'll have more to say than your sister." Marcus made no motion to correct him. "Come on rookie, we have work to do," Sir told Sarah. Marcus could do nothing but watch as the girl he just kissed was forced to leave. Sir ushered her into the elevator and turned to face him, "This case is classified, so don't go talking to people about it lover-boy."

A lack of fulfillment hung in the air like a moldy towel.

Marcus unlocked the door to his room and went inside. _"At least I'll see her tomorrow,"_ he thought as he set his stuff down. He noticed a note on his bed from Janet. He had completely forgotten about Janet in the sea of hormones that had swallowed him when he was with Sarah.

"Jan knows," he whispered to himself. That sick fear and horror that had twisted his happiest dreams overwhelmed him. He had to talk to Blackjack. Marcus rapped lightly on Tracy's door, praying she wasn't there. No response. He undid her lock and went into her room, hoping that she had left Blackjack there for the day. He was in luck; Blackjack was snoozing in a chair in the corner.

"Blackjack," said Marcus. The pokémon woke up and greeted him with a smile. "How did your date go?" Blackjack asked. "Fine, fine," Marcus spat out, "I need to talk to you about something." "Is this the talk, didn't your mother give you that yet?" he asked.

"Jan knows," Marcus said. "Knows what?" Blackjack inquired. He already knew what the answer would be.

"She knows I'm psychic," Marcus stated, "she's always known. Arceus, I'm such an idiot." Blackjack was now concerned. "Are you sure?" he asked gravely. "Yes," Marcus said. "What are you going to do?" Blackjack asked. "I don't know," he admitted, "What do I do?" Blackjack thought about the question.

"You don't need to do anything. If she knew before and didn't say anything then she won't say anything now," Blackjack said. "We should both just lie? How can either of us be happy living a lie!" Marcus shouted. "It made you happy before you knew it was a lie," Blackjack pointed out."Well now I know," Marcus said.

"Tracy, is Mark in there with you?" Janet asked. She had come back from grocery shopping early. "Paul said that he would make us…" Janet stopped when she saw Marcus and Blackjack. "Where's Tracy?" she asked.

"Janet, we need to talk," Marcus said sternly. Janet sat down on the bed next to Blackjack.

"I bought a nightstick so this will never happen again," Janet said whipping out the rosewood baton, "It's really heavy, here try it out." She handed it to Marcus.

"I know you know about me," Marcus said quietly. Janet wasn't prepared for the change in conversation. "What do you mean?" she asked nervously. She couldn't help averting her eyes. "You know exactly what I mean," he stated.

"Oh… that," she said quietly.

"Look at me!" Marcus shouted as he stood up. She looked back up at Marcus with fear in her eyes. "I don't think we should discuss this now," she stated.

"I'm so sorry," he told her, realizing what he had done, "I couldn't do it."

Janet wanted say something, but she couldn't. All her little fantasies slipped away. "I just didn't want you to hate me," Marcus said quietly. Janet hugged him. "I don't hate you," she told him. Marcus let the warm hug sink in. "B-but I'm j-just as w-weak as b-b-back then," he choked out through tears. "It's alright you can talk to me," Janet said. She really hoped that was the right thing to say.

Marcus dried his tears and sat back down on the bed. Janet sat next to him. "I could have done it," Marcus said, "I was just too afraid." Janet wished she knew what he was talking about, but her memory of the event was questionable at best. "I know," was all she could think to say."I thought I would grow stronger," Marcus said, "but the only thing that's changed since then is…" He looked at Blackjack.

"You don't need to tell her," Blackjack said.

"Is what?" Janet inquired cautiously. "Is that I can understand Blackjack," he told her. Janet slowly swallowed this news slowly. "Is that all?" she asked. "Yeah, just lift little things and talk to Blackjack," he said. "And I couldn't even do one of those when I needed to," he added bitterly. "Mark… it's okay, as long as you're okay," Janet said.

She was at once relieved and uncomfortable. She felt relieved that he felt comfortable enough to talk to her and off-put by his connection with Blackjack. She had so many questions, so many things she wanted to ask about that she didn't know where to start.

Those questions would have to wait until another day.


	18. XVII :: Rotoscope

_Rotoscope_

**They say that in a fight, you don't really think about what you're doing, you just kind of react.  
><strong>

* * *

><p>That's not entirely true, I was aware of what I was doing. It really isn't so bad, getting shot. I mean don't get me wrong it hurts a lot, but you don't really remember the pain. You remember something stupid, like the smells and the awful silence. You feel like you should feel something more, but you just feel shocked. This may sound a little crazy, but I'm actually glad I got shot again. I think that's how it's supposed to feel.<p>

Janet got nicked by a bullet. The way she acts around men, I would have thought she'd be milking her wound for sympathy. It's odd, I still don't trust her completely and I don't know why. She's a good person; I saw the way she treated _him. _Maybe I'm just being a blind old fool or a little kid fighting over...

I think I don't like her because she's a scientist.

I never trusted scientists in the past, why should Janet be any different? You know what, scientists scare me, why should I be ashamed to admit it? They all seem so confident in themselves, so confident that they're right. I know I'm all about confidence, but there's a difference between arrogance and believing in yourself, you know.

I guess you would need that kind of confidence to tell people how the universe works. It's really just a different way of viewing things; and if I hate her for having a different view, then doesn't that make me the arrogant one? Maybe I ought to give her another chance. I mean, I didn't exactly extend a friendly hand errr, paw today. Janet seemed pretty uncomfortable during the battle today. She may be able to hide behind her words with other humans, but her body speaks loud and clear for a pokémon like myself.

Isn't it funny how man's intelligence hinders his understanding? By man's standards, our languages' are primitive and yet we pokémon hear so much more. Humans can convey abstract concepts most pokémon cannot comprehend with their language, but when you look for the complex you often miss the simple. All we have to do is listen to the way they speak and watch for the little facial expressions and BAM! we get what they're trying to say.

Granted, a human can't tell a pokémon about justice or mathematics, but who cares? Man will probably never understand what we are saying; they've forgotten how to speak without words. Why, if I had never gone to school I wouldn't be able to talk with _him _at all. Sure I'd still be able to manipulate _his_ psychic powers, but I'd be speaking in feeling instead of concepts.

Now, what was I talking about? I got a little distracted there. Ah, yes Janet… I guess we share something in common after all: we both love ranting. I think she was ranting about something today during the battle, but what was it? Hmmm I think it was during Laura's fight with that scyther. That was a pretty surprising first round, but it just goes to show you that type-advantage isn't everything.

Laura's been a real moody adolescent lately, so I hope this loss will shut her up for a while. You should never let your guard down, even if you think you have the advantage. The' impenetrable' fortress is usually poorly guarded. I guess I'm a little bit to blame for her loss, when I coached her I only taught her how to be offensive.

I think _he _would do well to stop listening to me and start listening to Tracy for a change. She saw that straight through Bugsy's strategy. Focus energy and swords dance is a pretty damn lethal combo.

I was pretty worried, that captain oblivious would get torn to shreds after Laura went down... Oh! I just remembered what Janet was ranting about! She was going on and on about how scyther wasn't really an insect because scyther had to have bones because of it's size. That's not what really pissed me off though, it's what the Doc did afterward. He lied and said she was right when he looked it up and it said she was full of shit. Yeah, yeah - scyther, kabutops and submarines.

I bet that's why Harry was able to beat it so easy. All those little compartments means it probably breathed through the skin. I knew Laura didn't lower its speed. It was just having trouble breathing. There's no way _he _knew that in advance. I mean _he _can battle smart, but _he's _no super genius. And I know that captain oblivious didn't come up with that on his own. I guess _he_ just got lucky again, that scyther should have destroyed him. I hope _he _doesn't get a swollen ego...

As a dark-type this is somewhat hypocritical of me to say, but bug-types aren't well known for their incredible strength. Bugsy has always been the least formidable gym-leader in Johto, the numbers speak for themselves. There were probably more people in the team box then there were in the stands. If Azalea town wasn't so hard to reach, the league would have gone out of business a long time ago. I don't mean to belittle captain oblivious, especially after the beating he took from that powered-up scyther, but metapod isn't exactly a very threatening opponent. Morty and Whitney ought to be much tougher.

_He _should have listened to what Tracy was saying. Bugsy might be a joke, but there's no way a gym-leader would send out a pokémon with no attacks. Captain is too uh… _slow _to figure that out on his own, but he's supposed to listen to orders. If it hadn't been for Charles this would have been a humiliating defeat. _He _would have been mopey for days if Sarah saw _him_ lose to Bugsy. She probably would've stuck with _him, _but _he'd _definitely lose some man-points and _he's _already dangerously low on those with that whole kidnapping fiasco.

I don't know how I'm supposed to feel about those two. I like Sarah. She's a real nice girl and everything it's just… I don't know. Sometimes you get a picture in your head about the way something is supposed to be and then you find out that your incorrect. I wonder if my…

No! We can't be prisoners to 'what if's! That's why I went with them in the first place! When opportunity knocks you have to answer the door and forget about the price, even if…

I was talking about _him_. I was talking about _him_.

Ahem, like I was saying, I'm not entirely comfortable with the idea of _him _dating. They're both really smart kids, but love makes you do stupid things. Well, that's not true I take that back. Lust makes you do stupid things. I think the difference between courage and stupidity is love and lust.

I sound like an idiot. Just pick a different subject and move on, take a lesson from Janet and try to separate my feelings from my opinions. Then again, that can be equally dangerous.

I thought of another reason I don't trust scientists; they don't show emotions. They'll tell you what part of the brain produces fear and they'll tell you every chemical and all the little reactions your body has when you're afraid, but they don't tell you what it _feels _like.

I wonder what Janet would say? I've seen fear in her - you know what; that expression 'fear in her eyes' has always bothered me. It's much easier to see fear in the hands. I bet she doesn't know about all the little brain parts. Even though she's a scientist, she has this odd disdain for biology. I bet the Doc knows all about that kind of stuff.

It's weird that I don't really consider him a scientist. I don't really know what an emergency medical technician has to know these days, but something about him makes me think that he would know that kind of stuff about the brain. I think it's his voice. It's so… soothing, how could I not like him? Plus he's a real great cook; which earns him a lot of points in my book. He said he might accompany us back up to Goldenrod, if _he _won the gym-battle. It'll be nice to get some testosterone in the group. I bet I'd get to talk to Sarge again.

Sarge might be a little _unaware _, but at least he's fun to talk to. Everyone except Charles thinks I'm some crotchety old man.

Speaking of Charles, what happened to him was pretty unexpected. Maybe he's older than I thought he was. It was two to one and I pretty much thought _he _was going to lose, but Charles managed to win both of the battles for _him. _The metapod went down quickly, but that's not what impressed me. Honestly, I wasn't paying too much attention to the battle itself.

It was a little confusing since it was spinarak vs. spinarak, but that doesn't really matter. After Charles won he evolved. I'd like to think it was my training that gave him the competitive edge, but based on the results I'd probably say he was just stronger than that other guy. He's actually bigger than me to say, Charles evolving made everyone pretty excited, especially _him._

Evolution is strange. It's one of those events that create so many emotions in everyone, even if they don't know the guy. There are lots of events like that, but most of them make you sad.

* * *

><p><strong>Evolution is sort of like getting shot, in a weird way.<strong>


	19. 18 :::: Cubism

_Cubism_

"Balls…" said the craftsman. Paul, Tracy and Janet had opted to see how pokéballs were made while Marcus and Sarah went on a date. "It takes many hard hours of labor to produce good pokéballs," the craftsman said.

Janet giggled a little. It felt good to laugh away all the tension she had felt over the past week. As much as she wanted to take care of her cousin, she needed time to herself too. She had been avoiding Blackjack all week and by extension Tracy. Tracy was glad to be part of the group again, for with the addition of Paul, she was no longer the third wheel.

"Tonight I'm going to show you the ancient ball-making method," the craftsman said. The three sat down at the workstations. "It doesn't really matter which color you choose, it's what's on the inside that counts," the craftsman said, "however some apricorns have certain properties that make them more appealing for certain tasks."

"Wow it's so much more rubbery than I expected," said Tracy as she picked out a green apricorn.

"How do they get bigger and smaller?" asked Paul. "I was getting to that," said the craftsman, "This is what we call a bone in the business." He pulled out a little sphere and showed it to Paul. The craftsman set it down on the table and tapped the sphere with a rod. It expanded violently, revealing itself to be a fine mesh of electronics. "The expansion is mechanical," the craftsman explained, "The elastic properties of the covering prevents injury." "So it doesn't matter which color we use?" Tracy reiterated. "It did a long time ago, but now all that matters is the bone," the craftsman explained, "We keep the colors the same for tradition's sake."

"Can you tell me how the bone works?" Janet asked.

"I think it breaks them down or something, I don't really know much of the details," admitted the craftsman, he usually gave tours to young children and didn't like to upset them. "What I don't understand why they would use a laser with such a long wavelength? Wouldn't a shorter wavelength allow for less uncertainty in particle position and thus..." Janet began to rant. "Janet I think your scaring the man," said Paul quietly.

"Disintegration..." said Tracy. "…but that'd take too much energy,although with an anti-matter based storage-" "-What do you mean disintegration?" snapped Tracy. "Well, how did you think they fit pokémon into pokéballs?" the craftsman asked. He realized his mistake.

"You mean we kill them?" Tracy cried out in horror. "No, they come out the same as before," the craftsman said. Tracy was dumbfounded by this never let herself think about things like that too carefully.

"That's why people aren't allowed to use the transfer machines right?" asked Paul. "No that's because of religious assholes standing in the way of progress," Janet sneered bitterly.

The tension in the room was growing.

"Why don't we start making our balls?" Paul said, trying to get off the subject. "I'm going to pretend I didn't hear any of that," Tracy moaned.

* * *

><p>"Nice to meet ya, the name's Sarge," Sarge said. "Hello Sarge, I am Charles and my associate here is Harry," Charles said. "An ariados eh? You taste pretty good if you don't mind me saying," Sarge declared. "Not at all," said Charles, "I find it a compliment." Sarge smiled at the spider and the axolotl.<p>

"This everyone Nutjob?" he inquired. "No, there's Laura in the female section and Jerry," Blackjack said. "What about magnemite," said Harry.

"Magnemite! Where!" Sarge cried out in fear. Blackjack sighed at Harry's stupidity. _"Story in 3…2…1…" _he counted down in his head. As much as he liked Sarge, he didn't want to listen one of his war stories.

"What is the matter?" asked Charles. Sarge opened his wings. "Nothing! I'm travelling with a rust-sucking killer! There's no problem here!" Sarge shouted hysterically. "I like magnemite, he goes: yes!no!" exclaimed Harry.

"They want to lure you into a false sense of security," Sarge told Harry. _"Oh boy here we go…" _thought Blackjack. "I do not think magnemite has any ill intentions," said a perplexed Charles. "No ill intentions! Have you seen your friend get plucked from the sky by a thunder!" Sarge shouted.

"Calm down…" Blackjack said to no avail. "No I cannot say that I have," said Charles. Blackjack sighed and waited for the inevitable.

**"It was a dark and stormy night in the middle of gray December…"** Sarge began.

* * *

><p>It was the end of August. The sickle moon hung low in the sky, casting its pale glow across waters where the dawn's light did not touch. The sky was a single wispy cloud. The kind of cloud that looked like Arceus himself had breathed humid breath on the great cold window that was the sky. An ocean breeze danced through the tropical fauna, bringing warm air into the canvas tents that dotted the cliff. A young soldier and his skarmory sat at the edge of black cliffs, unaware or unfazed by the choppy ocean that slowly whittled away at the volcanic island.<p>

**"The rain fell like bullet seed, but I alone kept an ever vigilant watch out for the dark forces that surrounded us…"**

The young skarmory watched a flock of pelipper float lazily across the sea, glad he didn't have to fly this morning. The skarmory was content with waiting next to the warm coals of a dying fire.

"Skarmory, I only have a couple of weeks left until I get to go home," the young soldier told his pokémon. The young skarmory turned his head to look at his friend and master. "They said I could take you with me if I paid for you," the young soldier said, "How'd you like to live with me?" The young skarmory smiled and nodded. The young soldier smiled and stood up. "Great, you'll love my little sister she's just the sweetest little girl you've ever seen," he said as he opened up the packet of rations.

**"…bore the enormous task of getting my squad out of there alive…"**

"Breakfast is ready!" the young soldier called out. Five groggy men called out their pokémon and emerged from their tents. The soldiers ate the dehydrated porridge slowly as the morning sun continued to climb ever higher in the sky. "Hey Private I heard you're getting out soon," said the honchkrow. "Yeah, in a couple of weeks if all goes well," said the young skarmory. "Maybe, I'll come and visit yer family in a couple of months when I get out of here," said the swellow. "If Private can get a real woman that is," the xatu chimed in. "Please, Private is much more of a man then you'll ever be," the altaria teased. The honchkrow and the swellow jeered at the xatu, who shrugged off the insult and laughed.

**"The winds uprooted the ancient trees, sending them into the depths of the black maelstroms below…"**

A grizzled old skarmory scanned the horizon for danger. His proud feathers glistening sharply in the morning sun. "Hey Sarge, you gonna eat or are you gonna just stand there all day?" asked the young skarmory. The old skarmory did not turn his head as he spoke. "I must keep watch, only a fool places food above life," the old skarmory said. "Oh come on relax, I heard the humans say that the human chief is going to sign a peace treaty soon," said the swellow. "Not even humans are dumb enough to attack and risk messing up a peace treaty," said the xatu.

**"It was then that they emerged from the blackness, their eyes were like demons! There must have been more than fifty of them…"**

"I can watch while you eat," said the young skarmory. The old skarmory reluctantly sat down and began to eat. The young skarmory did not notice the worn aircraft in the distance, he was too busy thinking about his future. Living life with his man, what fun he would have. The Kanto pilot decided to land his ship on the little island, hoping to correct his instruments on the ground. Not a soul noticed the great bird roost.

**"Zap cannon to my right! Zap cannon to my left! Zap cannon to my front! Volleys of thunder everywhere!"**

One of the leaders of the Kanto squad noticed the smoke in the distance. He took his twenty or so troops to go investigate. They were supposed to be deployed today. A few of them shook with a nervous excitement while others wanted to pass out. They had never been in the field.

**"I must have taken out twenty of them before…"**

The Kanto leader ordered his troops to flank the young skarmory's squadron. "Our orders are to not kill unless we have to," he whispered to his troops. He motioned for them to move in.

**"… I shook it off, but there were far too many…"**

The young skarmory's squad surrendered without a fight. A magneton circled about the flying-types ready to paralyse any resistance. The Kanto troops pointed their guns at the drowsy men nervously. "Don't worry, they'll probably use you as leverage for negotiations, so let's just take this easy," the Kanto officer assured the squad. He didn't need any senseless blood on his hands.

**"They executed my squad one by one, right in front of me…"**

Anger and pride boiled in the heart of the young skarmory. He went to peck at the magneton, but missed. The old skarmory took the full brunt of the thunder, in place of the young skarmory. The attack sent the inexperienced troops into a panic. They fired wildly into the squad. A young Johto soldier took a bullet to the chest. The grizzled old skarmory was torn asunder by the bullets, his blood seeping into the volcanic soil from crimson spray.

**"But, I remained steadfast…"**

"Knock it off!" the Kanto leader cried. He rushed over to the injured soldier and inspected the wound. "We need a medic!" he cried out. The young skarmory stooped over his old leader. His master and friend coughed and sputtered as he was rushed away by the medics. The warm wind seemed to play a sad elegy for the old skarmory as the young skarmory wept over his corpse.

He had died not as a soldier. He had died as a father.


	20. 19 :::: Magicicada

_Magicicada_

It was a typical day in the Ilex forest. Tiny pinpricks of light pierced the great canopy, looking the world like stars in the night sky. There was a certain atmosphere created by the forest; an eerie reverence wound its way through the knobby roots and up into the smooth trunks of the silent trees. They had seen nations rise and fall. People had gone mad looking at the trees, those silent behemoths that mocked the ambitions and mortality of man. But many loved the forest. Many loved the quiet creeping of the path as they reflected on their lives. Many loved the terrible beauty that bewitched the petty and bold alike.

The Ilex forest made Tracy happy. It was a place where she could reflect on her life, a safe-haven from the ugly world that she had bourne witness to over the past few weeks. Her journey with Marcus and Janet was coming to an end. As soon as she reached Goldenrod she would return to her former life, whatever that was. Although her memory had all but returned, there were still a few holes in it.

Who were her parents and why couldn't she remember them? Why didn't they call her? Had she done something terrible to lose their love? These are the questions that bounced around inside Tracy's head as she made her way through the labyrinth of roots that composed the Ilex forest floor. As she contemplated her past, Tracy felt a strange peace settle over her.

"Can we have lunch now?" Marcus asked with a whiny tone.

"I don't know, what do the girls think," said Paul.

"I'm feeling hungry," said Janet nonchalantly. Tracy indicated that she too could use some food.

"Great, I'll make everyone some nice stew," said Paul. Within minutes the thick mixture was ready to be served.

"Wow this is great," Janet said. "Yeah where did you learn how to make this?" asked Marcus. "I experiment sometimes," Paul said. "What do you think… Tracy?" Janet asked as she looked around. "Hey where's Tracy?" Marcus asked. Tracy was gone. The pokémon looked up from their meals with growing concern.

Laura picked up Tracy's scent. It had been nearly half an hour since she had gone missing and the group was starting to become worried about her safety. Marcus followed his pokémon as she honed in on Tracy. Tracy was standing next to a tree. "Tracy what are you- Ah!" Marcus yelped as he noticed the large insect on her arm.

"Shh, she's sleeping," said Tracy. "Tracy what is that thing?" Marcus asked. "Mark did you find her?" inquired Janet. She ran up next to him. "Oh Tracy we were so worried about you," Janet said. "Oh, sorry I went to go to the bathroom and I found this pokémon," Tracy whispered. "Oh Tracy there you are," said Paul as he joined the others. "What is it?" Marcus asked as he pulled out his pokedex.

"Looks like a nincada," Paul said. Marcus looked over the information on the nincada. He was disappointed to find that it was another bug pokémon. "Oh, nincada isn't that that… Mark can I see that for a second?" Janet asked. Marcus handed over his pokedex reluctantly.

"How do you work this stupid thing?" Janet asked with a frustrated growl. Paul sighed and helped her find what she was looking for. Janet had always been woefully inept when it came to technology and often had to rely on Paul to help her turn in school assignments.

"Ah here we go," Janet said as she found what she was looking for. She gave Paul a small smile. "I had a boyfriend who would always tell the same dumb legend about how this pokémon was used to prove some legendary math problem," Janet explained.

"Sounds like a real winner…" said Tracy. "He was a great kisser," Janet replied. "What does this have to do with anything?" asked Marcus impatiently.

"Well, according to the- uh," Janet accidentally turned the pokedex off, "Need a little help here Paul." Paul took it from her and got her back to where she was. "Thanks," Janet said, "According to this they only come out every once in a while in prime-numbered cycles."

"Why would they do that?" wondered Marcus aloud. "I don't know, I'm not a biologist," Janet replied. "What does this have to do with anything?" asked Tracy. "Well," Janet continued, "Don't you think we'd see more of them if it were time for them to come out?" said Janet. "So your saying it'll die if one of us doesn't catch it," said Marcus. "Yeah, exactly," said Janet.

"Well I was going to catch it anyways," said Tracy, "I was just waiting to see if Marcus wanted it first." _"Well this is certainly a change,"_ thought Marcus. "Nah, I already have a bug-type you can keep him," Marcus said. "Her," Tracy corrected him. Tracy moved her other arm slowly towards her pocket and pulled out the pokéball she had crafted yesterday. She tapped the sleeping pokémon with the ball, and it disappeared in a flash of red light.

Peace filled the forest once more. The nervous excitement that had filled the air while the group was looking for Tracy had disappeared with the bug-pokémon. It was a peace that was unwarranted, for dark clouds loomed in the distance, masked by the endless canopy of the Ilex forest.


	21. 20 :::: Impulse

_Impulse_

Often, by the time one realizes there is a problem it is too late to fix it. Rain can cause these kinds of problems. Many an inexperienced hiker has spent a night in wet misery, when a storm crept up behind them. At first, Marcus thought he had imagined the single drop of water tickling his nose; but when one became many he braced himself for a night of discomfort.

"Uh guys…" said Janet, "Should I start setting up the tent?" Tracy frowned as she checked her pokedex. "There should be a traveler's lodge just over there according to the map," she said, pointing towards a distant clearing. "I vote we stay there," said Paul calmly, "If we run we can beat the downpour."

It was a small but auspicious clearing. A lumpy circle no bigger than five men in diameter, it was one of the few places in the forest where little tufts of grass could eke out a living. An unimpressive hut stood on in the middle the clearing, the stone foundation making it look like a strange sacrifice for some archaic deity. Not to say that the hut was not well constructed, it was probably very nice at one time. The hut had a porch, a chimney and a little stockpile of wood. It just hadn't aged well. The Johto National Park and Forest Department was notoriously bad with money, budgeting far too much money to construction and far too little to maintenance. The once proud siding was warped and grey from water damage, the sealant having chipped away long ago. The gently sloping slate roof was covered in moss and lichen. The windows were, surprisingly still intact, even if they were a little grimy. Above the door was a cheap plastic rectangle, in which a notice was framed.

The four huddled under the porch as the rain started to beat down faster. They recalled their pokémon while they inspected their things. "We're lucky we were so close to this lodge," Paul said as he put his first-aid kit back into his pack. "Yeah, we even have the place to ourselves," said Janet as she peered through window. "Don't get too excited," Tracy said, "I think we're locked out." Janet shifted uncomfortably and glanced at Marcus.

"What? Why would they do that?" questioned Marcus. Paul took down the notice and began to read it aloud.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Attention! This property belongs to the Johto Government.<strong> _This is a JNP emergency shelter, any citizen is welcome to stay if they abide by the following rules:

_-The emergency shelter is to be kept clean, regardless of prior condition.  
>-Any damage to property is to be reported and paid for.<br>-The visitors log must be signed.  
>-All fires are to be kept within the bounds of the pit. Please remember to close the exhaust hatch when you are done!<br>-All excrement is to be left at least 20 meters (60 feet) from the emergency shelter and water sources._

Failure to comply will result in fines up to 2000$ and/or 6 months jail time. Illegal activity performed on this land will result in trial in high court and is considered a major felony. The JNP is not responsible for any damage to persons or goods that may occur while using the emergency shelter. The emergency shelter is subject to close without warning under-

* * *

><p>Paul squinted at the cheap plastic frame. "It's too smudged and to read," he stated after several attempts to decipher the amorphous ink blots, born of water-damage. "Well that's just great!" growled Tracy, "What kind of idiot decides to lock people out of an emergency shelter?" "We still have the tent," Janet pointed out. Tracy bent over and picked up a rock. "Tracy, what are you doing?" asked Marcus. "I will not be toyed with Marcus," she said as she tossed the rock up and down in her hands, "I'll just break a window and unlock it from the inside."<p>

"That's a federal crime!" gasped Marcus. "Well do you have any better ideas?" Tracy asked.

During the Lost Era a famous scholar wrote extensively on the nature of impulse. He defined impulse as the product of time and force; that the external forces on the body over a period of time is what creates impulses. Furthermore, he proclaimed that an impulse signals a change. Tracy's question struck Marcus with an impulse. He could unlock that door. With the snap of a synapse, all the fears that had haunted Marcus were pushed aside. That desire to express himself had worn away at him for too long. He made a decision that would turn a boring moment of frustration into one they would all never forget.

"Why don't you and Paul see if there's a spare key hidden around back," Marcus suggested. The words came out without inhibition. "Sure, send the girl out into the rain," said Tracy sarcastically as she rooted around in her pack for a garbage bag, "I can see why Sarah wants you so much." She cut a few holes in the garbage bag and pulled it over her head. "It's better than breaking the law," said Paul as he donned his own makeshift poncho. The two stepped out from under the porch and started looking around the perimeter.

"Mark, what are you doing!" Janet whispered harshly."I'm going open the door, Jan," he said. "How? Are you going to… uh…" she said. She still wasn't entirely comfortable with the idea. "I need to know," Marcus stated. "Know what?" Janet asked nervously. "That I … would've helped, if the police -" "- Mark you don't have to prove anything," Janet said, her voice wavering. Marcus looked her in the eyes and Janet knew that she could not stop him. "How about we stop playing the whisper game and start picking a lock," said Blackjack. Janet let out a quiet, little surprised yelp when she heard Blackjack talk. Not because she understood him, but because she had forgotten he was there.

Marcus knelt down next to the lock and breathed deeply. He started to reach out with his mind but found that he could not do it. "Can you please turn around?" Marcus asked sheepishly. The wide-eyed Blackjack and Janet quickly obliged. The glanced at each other for a second and then quickly looked away from each other. The two of them were still extremely awkward in each other's presence and neither had mustered up the courage to ask Marcus be their translator. Marcus started to reach out with his mind again, this time with greater focus. There was a soft click.

The door was opened.

"There's no spare key, I'm gonna - Oh!" said Tracy as she walked around the corner. Marcus rushed into the house, with Blackjack and Janet following suit. Janet's breathing grew faster and she started to sweat. Marcus had already begun denying the severity of the situation in his head. "How did you get it open?" Tracy asked.

"He picked the lock!" Janet blurted out. She was doing a terrible job of hiding her nervousness. "I couldn't find-" Paul stopped midway through his sentence when he saw the open door. He took the packs inside and shut the front door. The scientist, the psychic, the umbreon and the former amnesiac all looked at Paul for a brief second, gracious for the brief respite he provided.

"There's no way Marcus can pick locks that fast," Tracy said suspiciously. "Yes! Aunt is ... home security!" Janet squeaked out, her mouth running on auto-pilot.

"No, no you're lying," Tracy muttered.

"I don't think she's lying," said Paul.

"No, you need tools to pick a lock, I didn't see any tools. You're lying," Tracy tone was accusatory. Everyone was silent. Only the sound of rain hitting the roof could be heard. Tiny neural impulses fired in Marcus's brain, each meaningless on their own; but together they formed a dreadful little conduit. A thousand little muscles squeezes and stretched out that little phrase.

Long ago a famous scholar wrote extensively on the nature of impulse. Many years after his death, another Lost Era scholar looked at what he had wrote and noticed a flaw. This younger scholar rewrote the famous scholar's work and achieved fame for himself and the famous scholar's work was tossed aside. But such is the nature of a paradigm shift; when giants stand on the shoulders of giants someone eventually gets crushed.

"I'm psychic."


	22. 21 :::: Surface tension

_Surface Tension_

Tracy laughed.

It was one of those halting laughs that sound like an animal eating food. A guffaw that leaves no room for other sounds that devolves into snorts and sharp gasps. Marcus and Janet looked on in horror as Tracy laughed. Janet's breathing became regular again, but her heart still pounded against her chest like raindrops on an old slate roof. Paul didn't say anything, his face was unreadable. Eventually, Tracy's laughter died down.

"Seriously, that's the best you could come up with," Tracy said mockingly, "_I'm psychic,_ that doesn't even make sense." Marcus tried to speak, but all that came out was incomprehensible sounds.

"Ah-ha! I got you, now hand over the key," Tracy said. She stretched out her hand in triumph, ready to claim her prize. Nobody made a move. "Come on, give it up already" Tracy stamped her foot in mock impatience.

"I don't have the key," Marcus choked out. There was an air of defeat in his words. "Okay then… Janet hand it over," Tracy ordered, her tone was a mix of annoyance and growing fear.

Janet tried to keep eye contact, but she could not. Janet closed her eyes and turned her head in an attempt to hold back hysteric tears. She looked like a woman on her deathbed; sweaty, pale and shaking.

"…Janet?" Tracy asked with confusion. "Marcus is that true?" asked Paul, his voice was as calm and controlled as ever.

Marcus nodded once and hung his head.

"No," said Tracy, a smile creeping up on her face, "Marcus…Janet?" Tracy looked at them again in disbelief. "No way," she whispered, "No way!" She looked at Janet. Janet had regained some control over herself, but she was still shaking. The look in Janet's puffy eyes told Tracy that Marcus was no liar. Tracy began to rock up and down as the smile on her face got wider. "Marcus is…" she said with growing excitement, "Prove it." Tracy thrust a wet piece of lint into his hands. Marcus stared at the tiny ball of fabric. He sighed. He had been preparing for this day for years hoping it would never come.

The tiny piece of lint hovered an inch above his palm for a few seconds. Tracy and Paul watched the lint with an unparalleled intensity. He let it drop and it slowly floated back into his hand. He hung his head. "Oh Arceus, Marcus… Marceus, oh," Tracy said, "You can… he's a-" "-your psychic," Paul stated as if he were reading off a list of groceries. "Marcus is psychic!" Tracy shouted giddily, her eyes were wide with delight.

Marcus looked up into Tracy's eyes and saw… something he did not recognize. "Marcus is psychic!" Tracy shouted again, "It all makes so much sense now!" Marcus was completely confused; he had prepared himself for fear and rejection, not joy and indifference. "He just so happens to find me in the woods and he always looks so nervous and uncomfortable and when Janet asked all those questions I thought he had to be a serial killer…" Tracy rambled to herself, "but no he's a psychic, of course!" She grabbed his hand and shook it up and down. "Do it again," she giggled.

Marcus wrenched his hand away in confusion. It was all happening so fast, he felt like he was going to be sick. "I-I need some time, some time to think" he told Tracy. Her smile faded a little as he made his way to the front porch. Tracy turned towards Janet. "Oh Arceus, this is so cool!" Tracy screamed. Janet whimpered and averted her eyes out the window.

"I'm going to get dinner started," stated Paul.

* * *

><p>Everyone was silent, lost in their thoughts. Tracy retained the euphoric excitement that came with discovery, but she managed to stay quiet as she wrapped her head around it. Janet watched raindrops race across the window pane, trying to prevent herself from making an entry of her own. Paul stroked Blackjack as he watched the stew ingredients shuffle.<p>

Tracy faced Marcus as he entered. "I'm ready to talk," he said nervously. Tracy leapt up and thrust a rock into his hand. "Do it again," she said, trying to hide her excitement. "Why don't we all sit by the fire, where it's nice and warm," Paul suggested. Tracy and Marcus made their way to the fire pit and sat down next to Paul. Janet stayed still. "Well go on," Tracy said. Marcus looked at the rock and frowned. He lifted it for a second and then let it hit his hand again. Tracy squealed and clapped her hands. "Again!" she asked.

"I can't," said Marcus, strain audible in his voice. Tiny beads of sweat formed on his brow. The stress of sharing his secret had taken a lot out of him. Tracy suddenly felt like a terrible person. "Does it…hurt?" she asked with concern.

"No, it's just a little tiring" Marcus said with a weak smile. Tracy's excitement returned, but she tried to control herself. "So can you read my mind?" Tracy asked. Marcus was prepared for that question. "No," he said. "What about predicting the future?" she inquired. "No, all I can do is move things and…" he said.

He looked at Blackjack for approval. "Not now," whispered Blackjack , "Tell her tomorrow." Marcus looked back at Tracy, who was hanging on to every word. "That's all?" asked Tracy with disappointment in her voice. "Yeah," said Marcus with a little grin, "Pretty boring huh?" "No, no, no," Tracy replied, "Telekinesis is pretty cool. With telekinesis you could like, fly and crush buildings and stuff right?" Marcus smiled; talking with Tracy made him feel normal. "No, nothing big like that," he said.

"Oh," she seemed very disappointed, "I guess I wouldn't want you doing that anyways." Marcus and Tracy smiled at each other. It was an awkward pause in the conversation that seemed to stretch on forever. Finally, Tracy decided to ask the question that had been bothering her most. "Why wouldn't you tell me?" she asked. He thought about the day on the beach. "I didn't want you to be afraid of me," said Marcus.

"I wasn't afraid of you," Janet whispered. Marcus and Tracy turned to look at her. "I wasn't afraid of him," she told Tracy. "Then what was it?" asked Marcus. "I was afraid… of me," Janet said, "Afraid that I might-" "-be like me," Marcus finished.

"Yes," she said. It took great will power not to start sobbing again. Marcus felt his anger rise. He'd been afraid his whole life because of that one moment. "Because, you didn't want to be a freak? Is that why you were afraid!" He yelled. "Marcus…" Tracy said. "No!" Janet sobbed, "I didn't want to be corrupted by the power."

"Power!" Marcus yelled, "What power? I almost drowned when I tried to lift a bar of soap!" "Marcus I don't think Janet…" Tracy said.

"Don't you get it! Don't you understand!" Janet shouted through tears, "Don't you know how fragile people are? How easy it would be for you to kill someone?" "Tell him Paul!" sobbed Janet, "Tell him how easy it'd be to kill someone! All you'd have to do is pinch a little blood vessel inside the brain and cause a, cause a, brain bursting thingy- " "-aneurysm," Paul said quietly. "Yeah that," Janet sniffled , "All you have to do is think and someone's dead. Doesn't that bother you at all?"

"Jan, I never thought hurting someone," Marcus said quietly. "I know you wouldn't," Janet said, her tears drying again, "but I would if I could."

"No, you wouldn't," Marcus told her, close to tears himself, "You're a good person."

"You can't know that," Janet said, "Nobody can know that.".

"You're both good people," said Paul, "and I think that neither you would never hurt someone on purpose."

"Now who wants soup?"


	23. 22 :::: Catch 22

_Catch-22_

Night in the Ilex forest was no different than day. The forest was a realm unto itself, a realm where time was not governed by the waltz of the heavens, but by the movements of other beings. The native pokémon remained silent, predators stalking their prey as it spun to the elegy of the night. Sleep had visited the shelter's weary inhabitants, drawing them into its cool embrace one by one until a single figure was left to contemplate in no presence but its own.

Paul watched the dying fire, its coals glowing with the charitable malice of heat. They had been sailors, bold explorers venturing across the great black void; so concerned about their shared goal and so filled with hubris that they paid no heed to the perils of the sea. Now they clung to their sinking ship. Smoldering ghosts scattered about the sea of ash, fading slowly into black husks. The damp residue of the storm dripped in through the chimney with the regularity of a metronome. Each an accursed albatross that sought a pyrrhic end. The sailors could do nothing but send smoky prayers their god.

But the god was not moved by their pleas; Paul was too lost in his thoughts to tend to a foolish fire.

* * *

><p>He thought about Marcus. Marcus had shown a lot of strength in talking about his gift. It was certainly very unique; he could understand why Marcus would want to hide it. Every doctor wants to discover the next penicillin and he had seen lust for glory eclipse ethics many times before. Sure most doctors had a strong moral core, but those who did not were a loud minority. Which would he be? The answer seemed obvious now, but was he really sure? He could not profit from Marcus's secret, he was an EMT not a researcher. He could see some uses for the power, but there was no glory in being the man who helped from the sidelines.<p>

He thumbed through his notes on psychic phenomena. He smiled to himself, finally understanding why Janet had asked for a copy. He sighed as he looked at them, wishing he had taken more. He hadn't been too interested at the time, only going because Janet had seemed so anxious about it. Quantum physics was more her thing. He let her think that she could hide her emotions well, but he could always tell how she felt. Well…almost always, he hadn't been able see her stress, but that was because it had always been there. Just slowly building over time until it blew up in a mess of shaking and tears. The reaction spoke for itself; he definitely hadn't expected it to be so angry. It was… enchanting, the way Tracy and Marcus just shriveled in the face of her passion.

An idea burrowed into his mind. What had the others thought of his reaction? Just carrying on as if nothing had happened; he couldn't imagine what that must have looked like. It must have seemed very odd. He found his own reaction a little disturbing. Why wasn't he surprised? Was he that unconcerned? Had all those hours of training to handle emergencies killed his ability to be surprised? Why didn't he feel excited like Tracy? He should have been happy for Marcus or at least interested in his gift, but he only felt disappointed.

Every time he learned something new he was disappointed. It showed him how little he knew about the world. It was his job to help people, to tell them it would be alright. He was supposed to make the life and death choices for them, they had to trust him.

How could someone so ignorant know what was right? How could someone who understood so little make such a dire choice for others? How could he continue working if, in ignorance and pride, he let someone die? How could tell someone that he let _their_ brother die and then carry on as if it had never happened? The very idea vexed him.

"I will not be ashamed to say 'I know not'," he whispered to himself, "I swear to fulfill, to the best of my ability..."

The oath meant nothing. How could he know what he did not know, if he did not know it? What is 'knowing'? Is 'knowledge' something tangible, something he could get from a book? He had read many books about the body, but did he really 'know' anything about people? He had become an EMT to help people, but he didn't even know anything about people. Why had he decided to become an EMT? Did he really even care about the people he was supposed to help or was he just trying to alleviate his own guilt? Trying to resurrect his brother saving some random person's life?

* * *

><p>He clenched his fist into a tight little ball and let it loosen slowly. The coals no longer glowed with heat, the rain had taken the last of it away. He watched the rain drip down, each drop hitting the ash with a soft thud.<p>

He put his hand out and let a raindrop fall into his palm.

Some men devote their whole lives to the pursuit of knowledge. They spent decades pouring through libraries filled with tomes and lore, for what end? To die and never reach their goal. Enduring all the hardships and indignities of life only to return to the ash without knowing a thing. Was he one of those men? Was everything he did ultimately futile? What does a doctor do, but delay the inevitable? Extend a life by a few years at the expense their own time. Was he nothing more than his hand to the raindrop?

He tilted his hand slowly. The raindrop slid out of his hand and landed in the ash with a soft thud.

What is a man! a string of nucleic acids that facilitates probability? A clambering mass of chemicals bound by sinew and chance? An automaton, shambling along its predetermined path until fate grows bored of its wretched plaything and decides to deliver it back to the gulf of obscure silence.

**Thud!**

**Thud!**

**Thud!**

Another man is dead: another life full of joy and sorrow and friendship and loneliness and peace and pain and love … gone. All the experiences and knowledge of life reduced to little more than ash in a forgotten hearth.

* * *

><p>Paul froze in shock as Janet shuffled out of bed and put on her shoes with a moan. He remained absolutely still as she pushed open the door and stepped out into the brisk night air. Why had she not seen him? Was she sleepwalking? Did she just not care? Paul waited in silence, paralyzed by the fear of upsetting her. The door creaked open, Janet kicked off her shoes. She let out a gasp when she saw Paul.<p>

"arceus! Paul you scared me!" she gasped. "I couldn't get to sleep," he whispered, "If it's any consolation you scared me too." Janet steadied her breathing. "What have you been doing all night, it's 1:01 in the morning?" she asked.

"Nothing... just watching the rain," he replied. She sat down beside him. "I used to love rain when I was little," she said. "Really? I never knew that about you," he said.

"Yeah I used to pretend that I lived in Orre and that I had to pray to arceus for rain," she told him. "I can't see you praying to Arceus," Paul said. Janet frowned. "Give me a break I was seven," she said, punching him lightly in the arm.

The two fell silent as they watched the rain drip down. "I heard they seed for rain now anyways," she said with a yawn, "You'd think they wouldn't need to with all that dust." "Seed for rain?" Paul asked. "Yeah the send planes up and put little particles in the clouds so that the rain has something to form around," Janet said with another yawn. He caught another drop in his hand and stared at it.

"Well I'm gonna see if I can get back to sleep," said Janet with a groggy yawn, "You coming or what?"

He nodded and with a smile, let the drop fall from his hand.


	24. 23 :::: Resonance

_Resonance_

Jane cowered in terror as the monster went about its business. She watched it creep closer and closer to its writhing victim, its dripping fangs casting sharp shadows in the harsh light. She waited for the final blow, the sick thud that would end it all. She let out a quiet yip.

"Jane, what is wrong?" asked Charles with concern. He moved towards her. "Don't eat me!" Jane screeched. "Jane, I told you I would not eat you, I am your ally," said Charles. Jane flinched away from him in fear. Charles turned to his struggling prey."Sir, do you mind if we could continue this in a moment?" Charles asked the venomoth. "Not 'tall, be my guest," the venomoth replied. Jane looked up at the venomoth in horror. "How can you just sit there when it… it's…"she couldn't bring herself to finish the thought.

"Well I'm not just sitting 'ere am I? I'm puttin' up a pretty good fight, trying to escape and all," said the venomoth. "Actually, I would advise that you cease your struggling, it only gets you more tangled and you might hurt yourself," suggested Charles. "Oh, didn't think 'bout that. Thank you mister…"the venomoth fished for a name."Charles," Charles told the venomoth. "Mister Charles, lovely name that, and you may call me Ted," the venomoth said. "It is a pleasure to meet you Ted," said Charles.

"It's going to kill you!" Jane shrieked, "How can you just stand there and make small talk?" "Well, he's a good deal more courteous than most predators," Ted noted. "Yes, I believe that eating someone and being polite to them don't have to be mutually exclusive," said Charles. "It does make the experience less unpleasant," Ted added. "H-he… I-it wants to s-suck out your insides…" Jane cried out in disgust. "Well I have to eat something," Charles said. "Yes, he doesn't want to starve, now does he?" said Ted, "I'm just glad it wasn't a scyther." "Oh, I've heard they can be rather brutal," said Charles.

"…P-P-Poison you," Jane said softly. "Yeah 'bout that, does the poison hurt much, 'cause I'm not a big fan of pain," Ted said. "Well I can inject it all at once to speed up the process if you would like," Charles told Ted. "If it wouldn't be too much trouble then; yes I would like it all once please," Ted replied. "It is no trouble at all," said Charles as he poised himself for the death blow. "Y-You're a monster," Jane sobbed. Charles stopped what he was doing. "Is it done yet, 'cause that was defiantly not as bad as I thought it would be?" asked Ted. They all sat in silence for a few seconds. "Jane… please look away," Charles requested. Jane clenched her eyes shut. "You're a monster," she whispered to herself.

In one swift motion, the ariados unsheathed its curved daggers and plunged them into the venomoth's thorax. "Well the poison wasn't as painless as I would have liked it to be," the venomoth sputtered, the toxins rapidly shredding his organs, "but it was nice meeting you Charles. Goodbye and please enjoy me." The venomoth fell silent.

"Goodbye, Ted," Charles said softly.

* * *

><p><em>Up down. They was all underwater. Bubbles floaty to the surface. Tracy felt old. The table was very heavy. What were<em>

_ it made of. The chairs were blacky. The table was black. Fancy and curly elegant carvings on they. The submarine_

_ was white or least inside was. The Marcus and Blackjack sat in the tall wooden chairs. Paul brought the cake out._

_ There were eight and eight candles. How did he keep the candles lit underwater. Blackjack was asleep in that Marcus_

_ lap. Tracy felt was stranger. The chair were so pretty. Who makes all doughnuts rotate. Paul didnt sit down he carry_

_ the cake. The Marcus was tired also. Tracy felt like the submarine. Not Marcus. How did they stay lit upside down._

* * *

><p>Morning came slowly to the Ilex forest. The pale glow of the moon let the pale glow of the sun pass it by once more on its eternal stroll. A feverish dew settled on the lone patch of grass as Marcus began to stir.<p>

"It's about time you woke up," Blackjack whispered as Marcus came to his senses. He looked around the emergency shelter with a dazed expression. He was the only one up now. He smiled as he remembered that he no longer had to watch over his shoulder. "Good morning Blackjack," said Marcus with a yawn. He checked the time on his pocket watch.

"Listen," said Blackjack, "we need to talk about last night." "What's there to talk about?" asked Marcus. "Let's cut the crap," Blackjack stated, "You're going to tell the others about our shared ability eventually." He sounded less than thrilled about the prospect. "Yeah, I mean there isn't any point in hiding it now…" Marcus said slowly. "Okay, just wanted to be ready," he said with a deep breath.

Marcus watched the steady heartbeat of Blackjack's rings grow faster. He gazed into those big, red, uncaring eyes. Only he knew what lay behind those eyes, but that was about to change. Blackjack was that figure that he could trust, his secret confidant that gave and gave and never asked for anything in return.

"We don't have to tell them if you don't want to," said Marcus. Blackjack smiled and shook his head. "No you shouldn't keep secrets from your friends," he said, "Tracy might even start feeding me real food for a change." Marcus chuckled a little. "Yeah she pretty much flipped out yesterday," Marcus said, "I've never seen her so excited before." Tracy shifted in her bed and moaned. "Maybe we ought to continue this outside," Marcus whispered. "That would be wise," said Blackjack. Marcus gingerly opened the door for Blackjack.

"You were saying?" asked Blackjack as Marcus sat down beside him. "I've never seen Tracy that happy," Marcus reiterated. "What's was there to be happy about before, she lost her memory and almost got shot," Blackjack pointed out. "Yeah but, I dunno," Marcus sighed, "It's just weird to see her not acting like a jerk." Blackjack laughed. "Well big news like that can really change a person," he said. Marcus thought about what Blackjack said.

The door creaked open behind them. Janet poked her head around the corner tentatively. "Mark I uh, wanted to, wanted to…" she drifted off as she noticed Blackjack, "… were you two uh…er, I'll come back later." "No, you should stay awhile," said Blackjack. Janet stared at Blackjack in uncomfortable silence, not having the slightest idea what he said. "He said you should stay," said Marcus. He made room for Janet and gestured for her to sit. "Okay," she said, sitting down next to him.

"So what did you want to talk to me about?" asked Marcus. Janet glanced at Blackjack before turning her attention to Marcus. "Uh, last night – yesterday, I got a little carried away," she stammered. She started rubbing her thighs nervously. "I just wanted to know if, uh, we were still, uh-" "-yeah," said Marcus. Janet stopped rubbing her thighs and smiled. "That's good," she said slowly. She started to stand.

"No wait, stay here," Marcus said. She sat back down uncomfortably and turned to face him again. _"The Mark I knew would never have done that,"_ Janet thought as she looked into his eyes. It struck her how much yesterday had changed him.

"Can I do something before we continue?" she asked. Janet knelt in front of Blackjack and put out her hand. "I know things have been a little awkward between us, but," she cleared her throat, "Hello I'm Janet Green, nice to meet you." Blackjack stared at her hand. He placed his paw in it and she shook it up and down. Janet sat back down and breathed a sigh of relief. There was a loud moan from within the shelter.

The umbreon, the scientist and the boy retreated back into the relative comfort of the shelter. Paul and Tracy were huddled by a boiling pot of water. Marcus was actually happy to see her for a change, her wild-eyed excitement had made him feel accepted.

"Good morning," said Marcus casually as he parked himself by the fire. "Yeah whatever," a drowsy Tracy replied. He was somewhat taken aback by her sudden shift in attitude. "Well somebody's not a morning person," said Marcus playfully. Tracy scowled at him, the pain of a cut still fresh and stinging. The was a small bandage in the center of her forehead, the solution to a problem created by a short dream and a short metallic bunk bed. Marcus's annoying cheerfulness only served to foul her mood further.

"Oh, how'd that happen?" asked Janet with mild interest. "She sliced her head as she woke up," explained Paul. "It's no big deal," said Tracy with a little forced smile. "Didn't lose your memory again did you?" asked Marcus facetiously. "I don't know," she groaned, "Why don't you tell me?" She watched as the words diminished his smug bounciness. It was always fun to cut him down, even if she did feel a little bad after she did it. "I told you I don't do that," Marcus said annoyed. Tracy rolled her eyes and smiled, "I know."

* * *

><p>Marcus waited impatiently for lunchtime to come around. For one, breakfast had not been filling and he was getting hungry. The previous day's rain had caused the unpleasant flavor of packaging to leech into their oatmeal. The nasal taste was subtle, but its presence was never overshadowed by the flavorless slurry that made up that meal. Paul was a great cook, but he was not a master chef. He could scrounge together a basic meal, but felt most comfortable with soups. Everyone was looking forward to a non-liquid meal to rid them of the flavorless thorn that clung to their palettes like an unyielding sneeze.<p>

Marcus was exhausted. The stress and psychic workout of last night had taken a heavy toll on his body. His mind was sharp but his legs were stiff. "Let's stop and eat in the shade of that big rock," suggested Tracy. Finally, he could take a break. The group relieved themselves of their gear and rested in the shade, eating their sandwiches in silence.

"When are we going to get to Goldenrod?" asked Janet trying to ease into conversation. Tracy swallowed the last piece of crust and looked at the map. "Probably sometime Sunday," she said. Marcus cleared his throat and prepared to speak. "So that means it'll only be a few more days until we go our separate ways then," said Marcus.

"Yup," said Tracy. Marcus rubbed his watch, trying to think of the best way to approach the situation he was in. "You know how yesterday I, you know…" he said. "Yes we remember," said Paul. "Well I didn't say everything," Marcus said excitedly. "There's more?" asked Tracy, a small smile creeping on to her face. Marcus was delighted to see her getting excited.

Blackjack sat by Marcus, prepared for unwanted attention. "I can talk to Blackjack," he said. The same elated grin that had made an appearance yesterday returned to Tracy's face. "You can talk to p-pokémon too?" she asked, "Holy shit! You're like a real-life superhero!"

"A superhero?" asked Marcus, he had never considered his powers on par with a superhero. The power to talk to pokémon was novel, but pokémon already obeyed people, it's not like talking would give him a real advantage. "You should totally be a superhero Marcus," Tracy squealed. She looked around and saw the others frightened faces. "Uh Tracy, it's really only Blackjack," explained Marcus.

"My Blackjack?" she asked, "Is that why you two sneak off all the time?" "Yeah he's really smart," said Marcus. Blackjack smiled at his compliment. "Ask him what it's like battling." Tracy said. "What?" asked Blackjack in disbelief. "What'd he say?" asked Tracy. "Hold on," said Marcus. Blackjack pulled him over away from the group.

"What?" asked Marcus in an annoyed tone. Blackjack scowled at him. "I didn't think there'd be questions," he said in a harsh whisper. "Of course they have questions, wouldn't you?" said Marcus. "I'm not ready to answer questions right now," whispered Blackjack. "Why not?" asked Marcus. "Is everything alright Mark?" asked Janet. "Yeah," said Marcus. "Let's just slow this down a little," whispered Blackjack. "Dude, why are you whispering? They can't understand you," Marcus pointed out.

"Do not call me 'dude'," Blackjack growled, "I am not some plaything." Marcus was taken aback by his sudden anger. "I know, but…" he trailed off as he looked back at the group, "…I just want to get it all out, tell them the whole truth, like ripping off a bandage. Can't you at least do it for your trainer?"

"She's not my trainer," Blackjack stated. Marcus frowned and looked back at Tracy, she was still smiling giddily. "I know… but don't you think you should be the one to tell her?" asked Marcus. Blackjack looked at Tracy and sighed. "Fine, I answer the questions," he said begrudgingly, "As long as I can stop at any time." "Thanks Blackjack," said Marcus. They walked back over to the group. "Okay we're ready for questions," said Marcus cheerfully, "we just had to get something out of the way."

"Okay I'll start, ask him what battling is like, does it hurt, is it fun," Tracy told him excitedly. "You can ask him yourself he understands us," Marcus explained. "Oh he does," Tracy blushed a little, "I didn't think about that."

"That's okay, most pokémon don't understand anything we say,**" **translated Marcus, **"**As far as battling goes, it doesn't hurt too bad. It's actually pretty fun sometimes.**"**

"I heard that pokémon have more nerves devoted to light touches," Paul explained calmly. "Good, I'd feel kinda bad if I was hurting you," said Tracy. "Can I ask a question uh, Mr. Blackjack?" asked Janet nervously. It was finally an opportunity to address some of the things she had wondered about since she learned of Marcus's other ability. "Do you know how it works, Mark's uh … gift?" Janet asked. Marcus looked at him hopefully, he hadn't thought to ask that.

"No,**" **said Blackjack via Marcus. He was disappointed. "I really only understand you because I went to school," said Blackjack. "You went to school?" asked Marcus. "Wait what, what'd he say?" asked Tracy. "He said he went to school," said Marcus. "I don't remember him being at school…" Tracy said. Truthfully, she didn't remember much from school anyways.

"Tell her," Blackjack said sternly. Marcus rubbed his watch slowly, "Tracy -"

"-What was I like? Before my accident?" she interrupted. He averted his gaze."Tracy," said Marcus, "Blackjack isn't really your pokémon." said Marcus. Her cheerful face disappeared almost instantly, "…huh?"

"He's a wild pokémon," Marcus explained.

"Oh," said Tracy, "I see." She was visibly shaken. The group waited for someone to continue the conversation.

"I think we should continue this latter," said Blackjack, pouncing on the opportunity. Everyone put on their packs and started walking again.

"Thanks for getting shot for me Blackjack," whispered Tracy.

* * *

><p><strong>To whom it may concern,<br>From this point on in the story, you will occasionally see scenes involving Charles and/or Jane. For your edification, these scenes do not take place in chronological order nor do they take place during the chapter they appear in.**


	25. 24 :::: Chaos

_Chaos  
><em>

Deep within the depths of the ocean, currents rushed over the craggy trench like a wind over a valley. Interestingly enough, this current was an average of 3.17 degrees centigrade warmer than it had been in previous years. As predicted by Dr. Cooper - in her largely ignored Conference presentation – this had a profound effect on a creature who, ironically enough, had until recently been unaware of the immense expanse of dihydrogen monoxide and metallic salts that subtly shaped its destiny.

The creature had a graceful way about it. It had a body that was shaped like a balloon in which all its major organs resided. A fine, blue coat of almost hair-like feathers stretched from its delicate talons to its long antenna eyebrows. Its eyes were beady and black, but had an adorable naivety that could not be denied. It had wings that were like an oily, bleached afro; that while incredibly inefficient for generating lift, allowed it to cruise on rise pockets of hot air with ease. To any predator above or below, the swablu would have looked like a little lost puff of smoke.

The swablu let out a soft sigh as it woke to another day of endless ocean. Everything was new for it; for it had lived its entire life in the rain-forests of Hoenn. It had never imagined that the daily rains that renewed and invigorated it would ever bring it such misery.

It scanned the horizon for respite from the viscous sea. The swablu spotted something shimmering in the distance, though it was hard to be sure; the swablu lacked the keen eyes of a predatory flying-type. As it approached the shiny rainforest a foul smell began to permeate the air. The swablu veered away from the smoggy city, unwilling to submit to the odor. It perched itself on the first tree it found, glad to find arboreal relief that promised sustenance and point for realigning its bearings. It was the first time the swablu had left the nest and its annual migration had not gone quite as planned. Although typically a solitary pokémon, swablu gathered en masse during the mating season.

The swablu preened itself as it contemplated its next move. It heard something move and froze, unsure of what to do. It saw a group of pokémon, the likes of which it had never seen before, draw near.

It recognized one as a skarmory, a flying-type predator that posed little threat to the swablu. There was a strange looking wingless swablu talking to a thing that used spindly vines to walk around. There were two quadruped zangooses that had odd coloration. One was black and spotted like a seviper and the other looked like an orange spinda. The largest pokémon were four tree-like creatures with huge bouncing growths on their backs and loose, brightly colored bark that looked like it could fall off at any moment. The swablu felt sorry for the ugly tree-creatures.

The swablu launched from its perch in the lone tree and flew and sat on top of one of the ugly tree-creatures who froze. It addressed the skarmory.

"Y'all wouldn't happen to know where I can find the matin' ground would ya?" the swablu said. "And what might you be?" asked the spindly legged creature. "Looks like that thing that beat me up," whimpered the spinda colored zangoose. "She is a swablu, thought they only lived in Hoenn, probably got lost on its annual migration," said the seviper with legs. "Yes, I am ever so lost," declared the swablu.

"A swablu eh?" the skarmory said, "Ya know, I knew this altaria back in the day who was a terrific ba-" the seviper with legs bit the skarmory. The swablu was concerned that the seviper with legs would poison the skarmory, but realized that everything would be fine. "-battler," the skarmory finished with a cheeky smile.

The ugly tree-creatures stared apprehensively at the swablu. The one she was sitting on said something incomprehensible and offered the swablu a berry. Its calm tone reassured it that it would be alright to take it. The swablu nibbled away at the juicy berry graciously thanking the lumbering beast that had provided it.

"Anyways you're pretty far from home little girl, how'd you end up here?" asked the skarmory. "I don't know," the swablu sighed, "I would be ever so pleased if y'all would point me in the right direction." It was becoming annoying that she kept on having to repeat herself. "You have to follow the stars, next time," the skarmory said, "don't think you're going to make it this year, yer pretty far from the grounds I know." One of the tree-creatures gave a confused look to the legged seviper.

"How would you like to join us for a while?" the legged seviper asked. "That'd be great!" shouted the wingless swablu. The swablu thought about the offer. "Yes, I shall accompany you until the next time the season rolls around in two years time," the swablu said. It was better to travel with this group of strangers than to be alone in this foreign world she reasoned. "Good," replied the legged seviper, "don't resist now."

One of the ugly tree creatures pulled out a strange berry and put it close to her face. "I'm afraid I don't get whatcha mean?" the swablu asked. There was a great flash of red light and a strange sensation filled the swablu.

* * *

><p>The lady watched the long afternoon shadows of wooden poles pass by in rhythm to the syncopated beat produced by metal wheels on metal rails.<p>

For many, this train represented a lost time. Its fine mahogany cabins and elegant lighting were a throwback to an era where comfort and style were just starting to influence the world of transportation. It was an inefficient, cumbersome way to get to places, outclassed in every way by the magnetically powered bullet trains that were the choice vehicles of intercontinental travel. Normally, the lady would have taken the fast and cheap route, but the old train offered one thing that the lady valued above all else this day.

Yesterday, the lady had received a missive from an old colleague regarding something important. The lady had quickly left her business and her pokémon in the care of her only employee, a man very few trusted. He had once been a cat burglar - a silent thief that robbed museums and casinos alike - and in her line of work, skills and knowledge like his made for an excellent employee.

A ticket-collector rapped lightly on the delicate cabin door. She showed him her ticket and dismissed him with a sigh, turning away from the poles and shifting her weight into a more comfortable position. It was weird to go by a fake name after all these years and it was more than a little troubling how easy it came back to her. The ticket master had informed her that they would be arriving in Goldenrod within the next half-hour and the other passengers were growing restless. She mentally went over her schedule. She would find a cheap hotel that didn't ask questions and find out what her former colleague wanted tomorrow. Then if there was time she'd catch up with family.

Lately, the lady had been experiencing a kind of emptiness and she hoped a visit would cheer her up. The lady drummed her finger impatiently as the minutes seemed to stretch into oblivion, but eventually the train came to a stop. She gathered her things and left for a hotel.

The train had placed her in the bad side of town. Flickering neon lights reflected in broken glass, lit the grimy, uneven sidewalk for drunkards and gangsters. A constant loop of slurred yells and a wailing ambulance droned on in the distance as the lady passed another dilapidated, darkened movie theater that could not advertise what movie it was showing. But the lady could take care herself. The dark glint that she noticed in a bum's eye only made her feel young again.

She found a suitable hotel and checked-in. It was a surprisingly clean two story hotel that looked out of place in the comparatively seedy neighborhood that surrounded them. A foreign looking bellboy lead her to her room on the second floor.

The lady plopped down on the squeaky mattress and began to unpack her things, unaware that of the scientist and the former amnesiac that slept below her.


	26. LOGOS

_A Game of Go_

* * *

><p>1 - I do not seek justification for my actions<strong>.<strong> Justification is for those too weak to accept that their actions have consequences. I do not blame circumstance; we alone choose to do what we do and we alone should be held responsible for what we do. All I ask is that you hear my side of the story before you judge me. Is that really so much to ask?

* * *

><p>2 - I killed a man. I will not lie and say I feel much remorse for what I have done. Remorse is no Balm of Gilead. In truth, I do not feel anything. I operate in the realm of absolutes, I do not let emotions stand in the way of what must be done.<p>

* * *

><p>3 - Perhaps I am being a little too cryptic in my wording? Don't assume that because I do not express emotion, I do not feel. That is a grave lie;I too feel sorrow and joy and loss and remorse. I just don't let them rule my actions.<p>

* * *

><p>4 - My associates call me the Queen of Hearts, an ill-fitting title. A name doesn't mean much anyways...<p>

* * *

><p>5 - But enough about me, I should tell you about my associates. One of them is the reason I murdered that man after all.<p>

* * *

><p>6 - The first is a madman, unable to tell the difference between his own imaginings and reality. He's obsessed with controlling himself; I doubt he even knows why he does anything. But he is not the reason I murdered a man.<p>

* * *

><p>7 - No, it is my other associate that drove me to do that. He is my counterpart, my opposite. A loathsome little man, compelled only by emotion - that ghastly portmanteau of awareness and flesh. He is bandied to and fro by his own dark impulses. He murders others in fits of rage and then sees fit to weep over what he has done. He is a brutish animal, I loathe him. He makes me question, he makes me doubt; it reminds me of that poem from before the Lost Era:<p>

* * *

><p>In what distant deeps or skies<br>Burnt the fire of thine eyes?  
>On what wings dare he aspire?<br>What the hand dare seize the fire?

And what shoulder, and what art,  
>Could twist the sinews of thy heart?<br>And when thy heart began to beat,  
>What dread hand? and what dread feet?<p>

What the hammer? what the chain?  
>In what furnace was thy brain?<br>What the anvil? what dread grasp  
>Dare its deadly terrors clasp?<p>

When the stars threw down their spears,  
>And watered heaven with their tears,<br>_ Did he smile his work to see? _  
><em> Did he who made that man make me?<em>

Tyger! Tyger! burning bright  
>In the forests of the night,<br>What immortal hand or eye  
>Could frame thy awful symmetry?<p>

* * *

><p>8 - He is the reason I killed a man. I killed that man to protect him from the tyger! I made it so that his last moments would not be spent in agony. So that he would not die with bulging eyes, sputtering and coughing as he choked on his own blood!We cannot die with dignity, but we can die without pain... that is why I killed that man.<p>

* * *

><p>9 - Does this make me evil? There are some who would have you believe that there is no such thing as good and evil; that it is all a matter of perspective. That evil is subject to interpretation and that we are not responsible for our actions. Wrong! We pay for our own sins, there is justice in this world!<p>

* * *

><p>10 - Just because a something is complex does not mean it cannot be defined. One of man's greatest flaws is his tendency to call what he does not know unknowable.<p>

* * *

><p>11 - I believe that the difference between good and evil is intention. I murdered that man out of mercy. I felt no pleasure as I sheathed my blade in his brain; I did not lust for his blood. I did what I had - no, what I felt was the best thing to do.<p>

* * *

><p>12 - I know there are some who would say that I could have saved that man, that every life is equal in the eyes of Arceus. There are those who say that every murder is an act of evil, that I must be evil. I would caution against such moral absolutism. Just because you see the world in black and white does not mean there is no gray.<p>

* * *

><p>13 - What if I told you that the man I murdered was a murderer himself? What if I told you I saved two children with my blade?<p>

* * *

><p>14 - Just because twelve people condemn a murderer instead of one does not mean that their hands are any cleaner than mine.<p>

* * *

><p>15 - Of course, he saved people too. For every innocent he killed, for every death that went into those white boxes, four or five people had their lives extended by a few more years. Would you say that the life of a young man is worth more than five old lives? Is my life more valuable because I am a woman? Is a child's life really more valuable than an adult? Children are some of the most evil people in this world. Truly, if there is evil in this world, it lies within the heart of children.<p>

* * *

><p>16 - Those who cling to false absolutes are often the most destructive type of person. In our haste we often damn ourselves.<p>

* * *

><p>17 - You may say that I am a monster because I can kill a man without hesitation, but who is the real monster here? Thou hypocrite! First cast out the beam out of thine own eye. Who are you to cast judgment on me when you kill everyday with your own inaction? An apathetic billion is no less guilty than one with pure intentions. Who can know what the future holds, but Arceus?<p>

* * *

><p>18 - I work for a greater cause! I work for the immortal soul, the purest essence of man! I work for the good of every man!<p>

* * *

><p>19 - Do not mistake my fervor for zealousness. I do not blindly acquiesce. I am no puppet. I do not have the illusions of innocence that the <strong>Man Of The Shadows<strong> has. I merely hope that my evil works are eclipsed by the good I am trying to bring about.

* * *

><p>20 - But enough! I have a job to do. The tyger and the madman are expecting me and I can't keep them waiting, less another innocent lose their life.<p>

* * *

><p>I had to stop to admire the tyger's handiwork, that idiot just kicked the door down unceremoniously. If only that strength were founded in wisdom. I went inside and found him blubbering over the...<p>

"What's going on! I thought they were supposed to be gone."

"Looks like he's gone and done it again Queen," the madman cackled as he gave me one of those hauting smiles.

"I-I s-swear they was alive when we got here, then they j-just d-d-d-dead when I l-l-l-l-look away," the tyger bawled.

The home owners must have come back early; the tyger was telling the truth, he's too stupid to lie. I had a suspicion that I had to confirm. I opened the woman's mouth.

"Cyanide capsules. They knew what it was."

Committing suicide just to protect one of them, it's a shame there was such a misunderstanding between us. We could have worked well together.

"You stay here and clean this up, burn the house down after we get what we need."

I scanned their bookshelves for clues as to its location. A photo caught my eye.

"It's not here."

I pocketed the picture, I knew exactly where it was. Arceus willing, we can get it without some other fools getting themselves killed.

But if not, oh well. How much is another man's life worth anyways?


	27. 26 :::: An uncanny valley

_An Uncanny Valley  
><em>

"I don't understand," said Jane. Charles looked confused. "W-why would you do that for me?" Jane asked. "Why would I not?" Charles stated plainly. "He could've killed you!" shouted Jane. She looked at him with confusion, he was equally baffled. "I had to protect you, that is all," he said slowly.

For a moment, the air seemed to hum. He heard someone calling for him in the distance and obliged.

"Thank you Charles," Jane muttered watching the ariados slip away from her.

* * *

><p>The lobby was filled with mid-morning light, the musty kind of light that casts fleeting shadows over the day. It was a time of brunch, a time for leisurely strolls in the park; gay church bells called worshipers into synagogues.<p>

The lady waited in the lobby for the cab to arrive. It was taking far longer than she had expected it to, despite the lack of traffic. The lady watched the hotel guests eke out of their rooms one by one with impatient fervor. Suddenly one caught her eye. She was a girl, probably a trainer based on her outfit. The lady could not help but feel as if she had met this woman before, even though she had certainly not.

The girl wandered over to the chairs and sat down beside the lady with a sigh. She turned her head and eyed the lady, who pretended not to notice.

"Do I know you?" asked Tracy, "You look like someone I know."

"No, I have one of those familiar faces," said the lady.

"Oh, sorry," said Tracy. She looked at the lady again."What are you sitting here for?" Tracy asked.

"I'm waiting for my cab," replied the lady, "What about you?"

"Just waiting for my friends to get out here," said Tracy hastily, "Are you sure we haven't met before?"

The lady shook her head no. "That's a lovely necklace," the lady commented, "Where did you get it?"

"Oh this," said Tracy looking at her necklace, "It's an opal, probably got it for my birthday."

"It looks good on you," said the lady, "So are you going to challenge Whitney?"

"No, I already beat her," explained Tracy, "I've just been tagging along with this other guy until uh… it's a long story."

The lady turned back to her affairs, relieved to find a natural stopping place in the conversation. Unfortunately, the girl had other ideas.

"Hey, there's one of my friends now," said Tracy.

The lady gave a polite glance at the girl's friend, at first not recognizing the approaching figure, but in an instant recognition came and she could do nothing but stare in dazed horror at the young woman. The figure looked at the lady a deer frozen in headlights. She squealed and ran at the lady with outstretched arms.

"Aunt Lauren!" Janet shouted. Janet embraced the lady in a tight hug. _"Janet?"_ the lady wondered, _"What are you doing here?" _

"Oh Aunt Lauren what are you doing here?" asked Janet. The little gears ticked and whirred inside Tracy's head until she had a mini-catharsis, "You're Marcus' mom."

"What's going on out here?" asked Paul.

"Paul, this my Aunt Lauren," Janet said excitedly, "I can't believe you're here. How've you been?"

"Nice to meet you," said Paul. He shook Lauren's hand. Lauren managed to smile weakly at the young man; he had a soothing voice that put her mind at ease. Marcus stumbled out of the room and looked about to see what all the commotion was over. He was a little bit shocked, to say the least.

"Mom?" he asked. Marcus suddenly felt that he should have combed his hair more thoroughly this morning. They hugged each other. "Oh, I missed you so much," said Lauren genuinely happy to see her son.

"Mom what are you doing here?" asked Marcus, slightly embarrassed by the open display of affection. "Just here for a visit," she said, "things are a little lonely round the house since you left. I left Ivan in charge of the business." Tracy noticed her fiddling with her ring. It was a worn out strip of metal dulled by years of activity.

Marcus' mother turned to Tracy. "You must be that Sarah girl I've heard so much about," she said. Tracy burst out laughing.

"No, no, no, no, no," Tracy sputtered, "I'm Tracy." "Oh," said Lauren, a little disappointed.

"Speaking of Sa-" "- Mom, not now," Marcus muttered under his breath. He was going bright red.

Janet made a move to change the topic, only she was allowed to embarrass Mark. Besides, she hadn't seen her only Aunt in forever. "So, why didn't you tell us you were going to be in town?" Janet asked lightheartedly. "I thought you were still in Azalea," explained Lauren quickly, "You looked so exhausted when you last called me - I hope you aren't pushing yourself to hard."

"Ma'am your taxi is here," called out a bored looking receptionist. They turned and thank him.

"Mom why don't we have lunch together?" begged Marcus.

Lauren reluctantly agreed - her friend would have to wait a day or two.

* * *

><p>The five went to a café that could only be described as quaint. The floral wallpaper and wrought iron tables would have made a Victorian parasol seem fashionable or at least appropriate.<p>

Lauren sighed as she stirred packet of sugar into a watery tea. It was surreal to see Marcus, her only child, as an adult conversing with friends. Something was different about him he seemed… happier, more relaxed. She felt a little saddened by this and a little bit joyful too.

"…So I'm in my bathing suit and the ice cream dripping all over Paul's hand," Janet said, "and Professor Cowley doesn't say a word." The group's laughter was reaching ever higher levels, especially Paul and Marcus. The crotchety old man who ate lunch at the café every day (except Tuesdays) turned and gave them a disapproving stare.

"So that's what we've been doing, what about you Aunt Lauren?" asked Janet.

"Well, we got a contract with a pretty big company up in Saffron," Lauren replied, "so business has been pretty good."

"Oh, which one?" asked Paul.

"Can't tell you," Lauren said with a chuckle.

"Why are you some sort of spy or something?" asked Tracy.

Lauren laughed, "No, I do security; mostly residential."

Tracy scrunched her nose up in confusion. Janet hadn't been lying after all. _"Guess Paul was right," _she thought to herself. With only a little bit of warning, a question popped into her head, that would stay at the front of her mind until she could get Marcus alone.

"What's with the face?" Lauren asked with a laugh.

"Oh nothing," muttered Tracy.

Marcus swallowed the last of his meal as the church bells let fly a sonorous cacophony of notes. Four of them took a moment to admire the great cathedral. The tune carried memories for all of them.

"Hey mom, we should go see Uncle Stephen," Marcus said.

"I think Mr. Green is working right now," Paul said with a little smile, "He gets off in two hours, right Janet?" Janet nodded.

"Yes I haven't seen Stephen in long time," said Lauren. She paused just long enough for the pause to look natural. "In the meantime I'm going to visit an old friend from back in the day," she said casually, "You should register for that gym match, I would love to see my little boy in action."

"That's a good idea," said Marcus. Paul and Tracy nodded in agreement.

"I'm going to see if that package I ordered arrived," Janet said, "I'll be sure to meet you there."

Lauren wasn't even going to point out that post office was closed today; she just asked for the bill and left for her friend's home. It had been a pleasant surprise finding her son here, but it made the proceedings all the more complicated.

* * *

><p>The gym was closed today. It was a disappointing discovery after all the hassle they had been through to make it there. But Marcus could always register over the phone so the three didn't stay upset for too long.<p>

By the time they got back to the hotel it was almost time to go. Marcus knocked on Tracy's door, quick time to go. Tracy pulled Marcus into her room and shut the door.

"Hey, what's going on?" asked a confused Marcus.

"I just need to know something," said Tracy, "Does your mom know?"

"Know what?" asked Marcus.

"You know," said Tracy wiggling her fingers.

"Oh that," said Marcus. Tracy obsession with his gift had diminished greatly over that last few days, but was still felt in their conversations. "Yeah of course she knows," he said.

"Just wanted to be sure," said Tracy, she swallowed her pride,"I know it took a lot for you to talk to me like that."

"Is Tracy having actual feelings?" Marcus said sarcastically.

She punched him in the arm. "Excuse me for looking out for you asshole," she growled, "You didn't give me rules." Marcus rubbed his arm.

"I didn't think it would ever come up," he said, "Since you guys would be leaving as soon as we got here." Tracy shuffled her feet.

"Well we're not gone yet Marcus," she said. "Well, Paul and Jan are going back to school tomorrow and I just thought that you'd…" he stopped himself before he said anything stupid.

Tracy looked at her pokémon, the dark-type sleeping on Janet's bed in a tight ball. "What about Blackjack?" she asked. The ebony figure stretched out as if summoned by its name.

"What time is it?" asked Blackjack with a yawn. The two humans tried not to stare at him, one significantly more fascinated and uncomfortable than the other.

"It's almost four in the afternoon, we were just about to head over to see my Uncle with my mom," Marcus explained, "You want to come along?"

"Lauren is here?" asked the groggy Blackjack.

"Yeah, we just bumped into her this morning, it's a pretty- Tracy will you stop staring at me like that!" Marcus said.

"Sorry, it's still a little weird for me," she said.

"Did you tell her about us?" asked Blackjack.

"No, not yet," said Marcus. Blackjack closed his eyes and thought for a moment, "I'll tag along."

Tracy cleared her throat, "Mr. Blackjack, I know I'm not really your trainer but – wow this is really weird."

"Just spit it out," said Blackjack via Marcus.

"Okay, okay," said Tracy, "C'mon can't I take a second to freak out about talking to my pokémon – uh ... sorry about the freak thing Marcus."

"It's all good," he said.

"I just wanted to know if you're going to go with me or Marcus?" asked Tracy.

Blackjack remained silent while he contemplated his next move. "I was thinking about going back to the wild; I'll decide later, tell me more about Lauren," he said.

There was a knock on the door. "You guys ready yet?" asked Paul. "Yeah let's go," said Tracy. Blackjack followed the children out of the room, pausing for a second to catch a breath.

* * *

><p>The three made their way over to the lady standing in the center of the busy plaza; the church bells drowning out the noise of footsteps on cobbled stone. "Where's Janet?" asked Tracy.<p>

"I thought she was with you Mark," said Lauren. "She must be running late," reasoned Marcus. Lauren had other ideas, but she wasn't going to voice her opinion. She examined the three young adults. They looked a little out of place with their hiking clothes, but it's not like they had much choice in the matter. She noticed the pokémon behind Tracy.

"That's Blackjack, he's Tracy's umbreon," said Marcus.

Lauren turned towards the cathedral, "Let's go."

It was an odd structure, warm and imposing all at once. Great stone slabs formed walls, supporting the vaulted ceiling that was so high, it gave one vertigo just looking at it. There was a narrow red carpet that stretched through the center of the wooden pews, only to stop at the foot of a beautiful wooden pulpit. Brazen pipes of the massive organ snaked up the back wall like vines on a tree trunk. Light streamed in through a stained glass window, a white circle surrounded by sixteen rectangles of different colors representing Arceus and his plates. Tracy took a mental picture of the church, it was one of those places that would be fun to explore in the future.

There were a few worshippers that had stayed after the service, idly chattering with each other. A woman spoke to a priest in the back.

The priest was a rugged looking bear of a man. His bushy brown beard had a few grey hairs in it and a few deep wrinkles were chiseled into his face, but his bright-eyes were kind and quick. He turned towards the group.

"Lauren and little Mark, when did you get here?" the priest shouted with a huge smile. Marcus ran up and gave him a big hug. "I haven't seen you in years," the priest said.

"It's great to see you Stephen," said Lauren, "We were in town and we thought we'd just drop by."

"Hello Mr. Green," said Paul.

"And Paul!" said Stephen, "it's good see you too." The woman slipped away unnoticed, having got what she needed.

"Who's your friend here?" asked Stephen.

"Hello, I'm Tracy," said Tracy. "She's looking for her parents, do you have anything that could help her?" asked Marcus. Tracy didn't know whether to be pleased that he thought of her needs or bothered that he was so eager to be rid of her.

"Oh as a matter of fact I was just talking to someone about finding people, here's a data center you can call," said Stephen as he handed her a card.

"Thanks," said Tracy, a bit embarrassed by Marcus' forthrightness.

"So how's business over in Vermillion?" asked Stephen.

"It's going well," replied Lauren with a shrug. He scratched his beard and laughed.

"You know what, we should save the questions for when you all come over for dinner tonight, I bet Elizabeth and Janet would love to see you again Mark," said Stephen.

"Does your wife appreciate you inviting guest over without warning?" Lauren teased.

"I'll call her now, I just have to finish up here and we can head over to the house," he said. They bid him farewell as he rushed off and made their way back to the hotel.

The shadow of the bells tolled for the close of the day as they prepared for dinner.

* * *

><p><strong>At the time of this edit, I have 990 views on this story which means you may very well be the 1000th viewer. If I were a pop-up, I'd totally give you a free gift or something (and probably a virus or two).<strong>

**I don't know if a thousand views is all that great, but I'm going to celebrate it anyways. YAY!  
><strong>


	28. 27 :::: Kavka's toxin

_Kavka's Toxin_

The humid breath of some exhausted, listless drifter from above seemed to seep into the cracks of Goldenrod city as the buzz of rowdy lights assaulted all who dared leave the safety of their homes. A young scientist waited in the lobby of a surprisingly nice hotel, drumming her fingers nervously across her lap - shifting her legs back and forth.

"Where were you Jan?" asked Marcus in an accusatory way. "The line was a lot longer than I thought it would be," said Janet with a nervous laugh, "Anyways, I'm pretty hungry; I was thinking we could try this new restaurant I've heard about."

"We're going to your house for dinner," Lauren stated, "Are you going to come or are you going to stay here?"

Janet frowned for but a moment. "Of course I'm going to be there," she said, "Why wouldn't I go eat with my… family?" "Then let's go," said Marcus impatiently. They all piled into the taxi cab as Tracy rolled her eyes at Marcus's antics.

* * *

><p>Janet continued to pound away at thighs with precision blows from her fingers. The cab pulled into her parent's apartment complex. Though they lived on the top floor, all the housing had the same layout. She tried to steady her breath, <em>"It won't be so bad."<em> She repeated over and over in her head. It didn't do much for her: Mark and Paul and Tracy - they were all 'smiles' and she had to be 'smiles' too. Panic almost seized her as they approached the door. It was the same stupid color it had always been - a little bit faded in places - but the same color nonetheless. Lauren knocked three times, the heavy metal ring grinding all the way.

A woman opened the door. "Aunt Lauren and Marcus! How lovely to see you!" a woman declared. The woman looked almost exactly like Janet, maybe a little taller and older than her little sister. Maybe her skin was a little nicer and her nose a little thinner. Her facial gestures were usually grandiose, as if someone was pulling little strings to make the muscles contort and twist under an enormous load; but occasionally the muscles made movements so small that it could only be seen by those who knew her.

"It's nice to see you Elizabeth," said Lauren, giving the woman a little hug. "Don't just let them stand there," a haggard woman's voice called out from the kitchen, "Invite them in." "Sorry mother," Elizabeth called back. She noticed Janet hiding behind the group and smirked a little, one of those rare little movements.

"Hello Janet," Elizabeth said.

"Hello Liz," said Janet quietly, looking down at her shoes. Janet noticed that one loop had grown larger than the other. She stooped down to make all the laces equally long, the way she liked it. They made their way to the dining room, the table was set with all sorts of fine cutlery, glistening like pieces of silver in the bright light.

"Father, Janet is here," said Elizabeth. "We met her on the way over," said Lauren, seeing the question form on Stephen's lips. Janet thanked her silently and sunk low in her chair. Janet's mother emerged from the kitchen carrying in the last dish.

She was a plump little woman that was neither fat nor skinny. Janet's mother did not look like her much at all, save a few superficial similarities. She was heavily made up. Janet's mother scowled for a second when she saw Janet, but quickly put on a smile again.

"It's nice to see that we can all eat as a family," Janet's mother said as she set down the roast. She sighed loudly. "It looks like I'll have to get another plate," Janet's mother said. "I shall help you mother," said Elizabeth.

After Stephen said a short prayer, they all sat down at the table and began to pass the food around . Soon the only noise that could be heard was the clinking of silverware on porcelain as they started eating their food.

"This is really good Mrs. Green," said Tracy after swallowing another portion of roast. "Yes I'd like to know what you put in it to make it so juicy," said Paul as he passed some bread to Marcus. "Actually, Elizabeth prepared it," said Janet's mom, "She's been taking cooking lessons after seminary."

"Really? How do you find the time?" asked Paul casually. "I'm not as good as mother," said Elizabeth with a little smile, "but you should come over some time and I could show you." "Like you have anything to show," Janet commented under her breath. "Well at least mine have some mystery," Elizabeth retorted. "So Mark!" said Lauren, silencing Janet before she could make with a comeback, "Why don't you tell us about Azalea town?"

He stopped buttering the bread he was about to eat. "Well the craziest thing happened," he began, "I going to the bathroom one night and I thought I saw these guys that were having car trouble, but really-OW!" Janet delivered a sharp kick to his shin. She shot him a look that reminded him not to talk about their kidnapping. He rubbed the shin tenderly and frowned at her, it was definitely going to bruise. "- they were a group of traveling mimes that got lost on their way to the circus, they were only pretending to have car troubles," Tracy quickly thought up a cover story, "It was pretty weird."

"Clowns huh, crusty little devils," Janet's mom said, "Why don't you tell them about what you got Elizabeth." "Oh yes mother," said Elizabeth,"Well, I-" "-Elizabeth is going to be helping a team of archeologists identify some sacred objects from ancient times," Janet's mother gushed, "Isn't that exciting?"

"I bet you can't even identify the sharp end of a sword," Janet whispered. "What was that?" snapped Elizabeth.

"What about Buddy, I hear he's a real tough one," said Stephen, trying to prevent his wife from becoming upset. "Buddy?" asked Marcus in confusion. "You know, the gym leader in Azalea town," Lauren told Marcus.

"Oh," said Marcus, "Yeah, it was tough but, I won on my first try with Sarah there and everything." "Oh is that _the_ Sarah?" asked Lauren. Marcus' face turned bright red. "Marcus has a girlfriend," chided Tracy. "Shut-up Tracy," he said. "I hope that you aren't doing anything lewd," Janet's mom said sternly. Marcus turned an even brighter shade of red. "I didn't do anything, right Jan?" Marcus called out in a desperate attempt to save himself from embarrassment.

"Why would Janet know anything?" asked Stephen with suspicion. Marcus cursed his stupidity. Janet set her fork down with a metallic twang.

"Because I was there dad," she said, with a little anger in her tone, "I went with Marcus and Tracy to Azalea town after the Conference." She tried to sound nonchalant.

"Oh, now she's lying to us," said Janet's mother with a forced sorrow, "I knew we should never have let her go to that Convention."

"I'm an adult mom," Janet growled, "I can make decisions on my own."

"But, did you ever think about what you're doing to your poor old mother?" Janet's mom asked with a groan, "You just abandoned your family for your silly science festival."

"Silly science festival," Janet said bitterly, "I had to go there for school!"

"Well maybe this wouldn't have happened if you just stayed in the right school like Elizabeth," Janet's mother wailed, "Oh! I'm such a terrible mother."

"Elizabeth, Elizabeth! What about my achievements?" Janet asked, "I got my paper on the thermodynamics of superfluids published four months ago and you haven't even opened the magazine!"

"Maybe if I had some more help around the house I would have time to read," fretted Janet's mother. She used a napkin to dab tears away, careful not to ruin her make-up.

"Bullshit!" Janet cried.

"Janet Green you will not talk to your mother like that," Stephen ordered.

"I'm an adult!" Janet declared, "I will say what I want to! I will do what I want to! and I'll believe whatever I want!" She pounded her fist against the table making her fork jump up a little.

"Oh! Where did I go wrong?" wailed Janet's mother, "Arceus what did I do to offend thee?" "Janet, we are your parents and you will do as we say!" barked Stephen.

"And you know what else?" Janet yelled, "I'm a lesbian; Tracy's my girlfriend." Tracy nearly spat her drink out all over the table. Janet's mom wailed louder and Stephen went pale in the face.

"Please Jan; we all know _you're_ not a lesbian, I don't even go to your school and I still hear about my harlot sister," said Elizabeth. A huge grin was plastered on her face. Janet stood up and slammed her hands on the table, "What do you know Liz!"

"More than you," Elizabeth replied smugly.

"Says who!" Janet shouted.

"Says my grades," said Elizabeth.

"I know stuff based on facts, not made-up religious crap!" Janet shouted.

"Just because you don't believe something doesn't mean it isn't true," said Elizabeth.

It was the same argument they always had.

"arceus doesn't even exist!" Janet proclaimed.

"Some scientist you are," Elizabeth said, "What evidence do you have that Arceus doesn't exist?"

"Try science! Try everything!" Janet screamed.

"Maybe Arceus created science, did you ever think about that?" Elizabeth asked.

"What does that even mean? You don't make any sense!" Janet bawled.

"It explains baryogenesis," said Elizabeth.

"No it doesn't," said Janet, spastically moving her arms around.

"Why can't I have a nice dinner?" Janet's mother sobbed with her hands clutched tight to her heart. "Girls, please stop fighting," Stephen begged.

"…forgot informational entropy!" screeched Janet, "I've had it with this family! You can all go die in hell!" "That doesn't even make any sense," said Elizabeth. "Aaaugh!" Janet bellowed, storming off and slamming the door behind her.

"Janet wait," Stephen called after her.


	29. 28 :::: Shepard's tone

_Shepard's Tone_

The weary man looked out over the city from the rooftop. A young woman hurried home to her husband. A little boy slept quietly as his parents made their way home. A group of friends talked and laughed. A ragged old man stumbled through the streets, his tattered jacket separating him from the elements. A passerby glanced at their reflection in a window. An ambitious worker sat alone, with nothing but the hum of a small fan to keep them company.

The weary man sighed as he watched the waxy lights dance about below; the comings and goings of mankind reduced to a strange oil painting whose figures were mere raised brushstrokes on a canvas of ambiguity that seemed reduced to an impassive abyssal glacier in the foreground of his imagination - an ephemeral will-o-the-wisp that undulated spasmodically to an unerring metronome at some vague point in the distance.

"I'll be down in a minute," Stephen told the noise behind him.

He was a little surprised to find the umbreon up on the rooftop with him, expecting his wife to be with him shortly after the night's events. He stared into the umbreon's eyes for a moment, those uncaring orbs that said so much and so little. The umbreon approached him slowly and sat down beside him. The two peered into the city, locked in silence. They, two figures sitting in contemplation of the terrible grandeur of the clockwork that lay before them.

Stephen broke the silence. "Hello there little guy," he said. The umbreon continued to stare at some point in the distance.

"Don't worry little guy, I'm not gonna hurt ya," he said, stretching his hand out and patting the ebony head. He was stronger than he looked. The umbreon continued to stare at some point in the distance.

Stephen withdrew his hand and sighed. "Terrible isn't it," he mused, "Always somewhere humans got to be, funny huh little guy?" The umbreon continued to stare at some point in the distance.

"You know, I was the same way when I was her age little guy," he told the umbreon, "Can you imagine that little guy?" The umbreon continued to stare at point in the distance.

"Where does the time go?" he asked with a bitter gasp, "Sometimes I wish I could just go back to those days, back before everything started going away." The umbreon continued to stare at some point in the distance.

"Back then we had an eevee just like you little guy," said Stephen, "I bet you were a cute eevee." The umbreon continued to stare at some point in the distance.

"He was my brother's pokémon," he said, "They died in the war, I was in the war myself too." The umbreon continued to stare at some point in the distance.

"That's when I stopped messing around and became a priest," Stephen told the umbreon, "You think he'd be proud of me little guy?" The umbreon tried to focus on the point in the distance.

"I'm the only one left now, Mom and Dad died a couple of years ago," he said quietly. Tears started leaking out, "They were still so young little guy, I don't understand why Arceus would take them." He wiped his tears on his sleeve. "Sometimes I wonder what their lives were like before we were born," he said, "Do you think they ever felt the same?"

The two sat in silence again, staring at some vague point in the distance. Stephen stood up and gritted his teeth. "I need to find her little guy," he said with resolve, "I'm going to make things right." He patted the umbreon on the head and left.

The umbreon continued to stare at the point in the distance. For a moment, it seemed a corporeal star on the horizon, something that one could reach out and snuff before it flickered back into obscurity.


	30. 29::::: Tracy Stone

_A Day in the Life of Tracy Stone_

And so the two bug-types looked on from their hill, contemplating their places in the world.

"Charles."

"Yes m'lady?"

"Promise me…"

"Promise you what Jane?"

"Promise, you'll always be with me."

"… Yes Jane, I will be with you."

* * *

><p>The moment had come. Their journey together was finally over. As much as she hated to admit it, Tracy had grown fond of these people.<p>

Marcus, Marcus was annoying at first with his whining, but now she understood why he acted the way he did. Janet, Janet was a great friend, probably the nerdiest and yet most fun person Tracy knew. Paul, she didn't know Paul very well, but he had saved her life twice and for that Tracy felt deeply grateful. Blackjack, Blackjack wasn't her pokémon, he should be free to make his own choices.

She told herself that this wasn't really the end; after all she would visit Paul and Janet again. Maybe if she was lucky, Marcus would make it to the tournament and she'd get a chance to fight him and then she'd get to see Blackjack again. In the back of her mind, a raspy voice told her that they would only be memories, as she would be a faded memory to them. It made her sick.

"We'll hang out some time," said Janet as she embraced Tracy in a hug, "You, me and Paul."

"Thanks for helping me so many times," Tracy told Paul. "Till we cross that river again Tracy," said Paul with a smile.

"Make sure you treat Sarah right," she told Marcus, "and make sure you make it to the tournament so I can kick your ass."

He chuckled a little and put his hands behind his head casually.

"You know, you never told me how many badges you got," he said. His subtlety could use some work - something she liked about him.

"Only five," said Tracy smugly, "but I'm going to get the other three in a heartbeat just you wait."

"Not if I beat them first," Marcus replied.

There was an unnatural feeling in the air as they said their brief goodbyes.

And so they headed their separate ways, not knowing what lay in store for them.

* * *

><p>Tracy followed the instructions the man - that Janet's father had told her about - had given her. She felt nervousness well up within her as she approached the house, her house.<p>

Her's was a quaint little home, located just far enough from the city to be protected from noise pollution. The picket fence encircled the home like a blanket, making it look smaller than it actually was. The house itself was blocky with brilliant white siding that shone with harmonious and welcoming radiance. The great bay windows gave the illusion that the house was a giant smiling head poking out of the ground like a child at the beach. The house had rows beautiful orchids planted in front of it. It couldn't have been more inviting.

Tracy knocked on the door. "Mom… Dad," she called out nervously. She heard footsteps inside. _"Shit! What do I say?"_ she thought. _"Hello there I'm your daughter that mysteriously disappeared off the face of the planet awhile back," _she mocked herself. The door swung open and there was her father.

"Uh, hi dad," she said.

Tracy's father looked her over with a confused look on his face. "What are you doing here?" Tracy's father asked. "Who is it?" a woman called from another room. "Tracy's back," Tracy's father said. Tracy's mother rushed to the door and looked her over. "Well don't stand outside, come on in," Tracy's mother said.

The inside of the house mirrored the outside, it was your typical family home in the city. Tracy played with her necklace while her mother fixed tea. She felt she could not grasp the cause of her vexations. "What brings you back so early?" asked Tracy's father.

Tracy stopped playing with her necklace for a second and looked him in the eyes. "This is going to sound really stupid, but I bumped my head and got amnesia," Tracy told him. His facial expression did not change in the slightest, which surprised her a little. "Amnesia again huh?" Tracy's father said. "You've always been prone to that," Tracy's mother said as she poured her some tea, "That's why I told you to keep a diary."

Tracy took a sip of tea, it was bitter and full of particulated leaves. "So um … what was I doing before I left?" asked Tracy. Tracy's father took a sip of tea and laughed. "Why you released all your pokémon and up and left, said you were going to take on the Kanto league," Tracy's father said. "You are a very good battler," said Tracy's mother. Tracy frowned in disappointment as they finished their tea. She took a few obligatory sips, but mostly just stared at her reflection in the tepid brew.

"Can I stay here for a little while?" asked Tracy. "It's your house too dear," Tracy's father said carelessly. "Thanks dad," she said as she lugged her bags up the stairs.

She locked the door and looked over her room with a sigh. It was colorless and bland, no posters or scuff marks on any of the walls. In the corner was a small pine desk, on which a dusty lamp that had never been plugged in waited. Her small bed greeted her with an enthusiastic squeak as she plopped down on it with a soft moan._ "These can't be my real parents," _she thought to herself, _"They were so… boring."_

She had envisioned her family as mobsters or occultists, not bland suburbanites who drank bitter tea constantly. She picked up a photograph from off her desk and examined the girl in the photo. Sure enough there she was, wedged between those two people in a ridiculously large coat. How boring would someone have to be for her not to remember a trip to the mountains? She set the photograph down and sighed. _"Maybe it's for the better," _she thought.

She went back down stairs with resolution and returned to the kitchen where her mother was boiling another pot of bad tea. "So are you going to go back to Kanto?" asked Tracy's father. "Sure, I guess," said Tracy, she had no idea how to react. "Well don't forget to write in your diary dear," said Tracy's mother.

Tracy picked up her pack and stood in the doorway. Her parents carried on as if she weren't even there: contentedly sipping away at their bad tea.

"Bye… I guess."


	31. 29 :::: Laura the Growlithe

_One Day in the Life of Laura the Growlithe_

Those words brought her a tearful euphoria that seemed a gentle beast with its own will swelling from within her. They embraced each other with as much passion as they could muster. "Charles I w-want t-t-t-to… to share..." she did not know how to express her overwhelming desire to be close to him, to be his forever. Charles looked towards her, nervous and embarrassed, "were I still a spinarak I would gladly, but…"

Jane would have blushed if she could."T-Then I'll just have to evolve," Jane replied in frustration, "I'll train even harder until I'm a ninjask. I'll - I'll even evolve before we get to Olivine city, and then we can..."

Charles smiled at her and she smiled back.

* * *

><p>Laura watched her trainer setup the tent with lazy disinterest. Tomorrow they'd reach Goldenrod, though she didn't know that. He seemed happier than normal, but he still didn't have time to play with her like he used to. With a bored sigh she rose up and made her way over to Blackjack, who was talking to the newest members of their little group.<p>

"Hello," Laura said. "This is Laura," said Blackjack in an unusually personable way, "Up till now she's been the only girl in our little group." The swablu and the nincada looked at her curiously. "Laura this is Carolyn and Jane, Tracy – your trainer, Jane – just gave them names a little while ago," Blackjack explained to Laura.

Laura tilted her head in confusion."Jane? That's almost like that one girls name," Laura whimpered. "Tracy named her in Janet's honor," Blackjack explained, "Humans like to give things names that mean something to them." He opened his mouth as if to say something more, but said nothing.

"Blackjack!" Laura's trainer summoned the umbreon. "I must be going girls, I'm sure Laura will be happy to assist you," Blackjack told them. He ran off to the tent.

Laura wagged her tail in joyful exuberance; she was finally going to have some friends in this sea of testosterone. "Don't worry you two, I'll tell you everything you need to know," Laura beamed. "O-oh t-thank y-you," Jane said quietly. "Yes I'm sure we'll all be good friends before ya know it," said Carolyn.

The three played a game of hide and seek, with modified rules to account for their physiological differences. After a nice meal, Laura began to tell them about what their new lives would be like. "…and they get really happy if you beat the other one up," Laura finished. "Sounds scary," Jane whimpered quietly. "Sounds a lot like home," said Carolyn. Carolyn flew a little closer so they were all huddled together.

"So," whispered Carolyn, "What kind of males are here?"

"You mean the guys?" said Laura obliviously, "Well there's magnemite, he's pretty nice. Then there's Harry, Uncle Blackjack calls him captain. Sarge is kinda old, but he's nice when you get to know him. Then there' Charl-" "-No, I asked: what _kind _of males are here?" said Carolyn. "I don't get it?" Laura said in confusion. "You know… what _kind_ of _males_?" said Carolyn with a lecherous wink.

Laura looked at her with confusion. "Like what about that guy over there?" asked Carolyn, pointing a wing at Jerry, "How is he?" "Don't talk to him, he's a dirty thief!" Laura growled.

"Oh he's your squeeze, is he?" asked Carolyn coyly. "Yes!- I mean no… I mean don't talk to him," said Laura.

"I'll leave him alone then," said Carolyn.

She stared at the nidorino with passionate fury, he may have been able to trick the others but he wouldn't trick her.


	32. 29? ::: Janet Green

_One Day in the Life of Janet Green_

"Janet, I thought you said you were going to the match," said Paul.

"I'm only going to have one or two drinks, I'm not going to get smashed," Janet reassured him as they rounded the corner and made their way to the pub.

It was a rustic establishment, a quiet pub where businessmen and blue-collar workers would gather to escape from their lives or wives. The lunch crowd had all but left the dimly lit building so that only a few tattered men remained.

"Well, see you around Paul," said Janet. Paul looked at her pensively. "I think maybe I'll stay here with you for a while," he said. "Don't worry about me I'm a big girl," she told him. "I thought you – I mean what with yesterday…" Paul stopped himself before he said anything foolish. Janet bit her lip a little, but said nothing. Paul chastised himself silently as he followed her into the pub.

They pulled themselves over to the bar and sat down. The floor let out a sighing creak as they sat down in the dilapidated old chairs.

"Two of whatever you got!" Janet shouted to the bartender, "One for me and my friend here." The bartender sighed and filled two mugs of beer and handed them over to the two. Paul took a sip of the beer, it wasn't very good. He set the mug down and watched on in curious fear as Janet chugged her beer down quickly.

"Janet are you okay?" Paul asked cautiously, "We can talk-" "- I'm feeling great!" said Janet, setting her empty mug down with a wide smile, "Let's get some shots this time."

The small crowd of drunken pubdwellers gathered around Janet as she downed shot after shot, cheering her on. Paul waited outside for her to finish her business; he couldn't bear seeing her like that. He noticed a familiar figure approaching. Paul rushed back inside to get Janet.

"… and that's when she said that it would explain baryo -urp- genisis," said the wobbly Janet. A circle of drunkards surrounded her. "Her arguments are certainly logical, but her reasoning isn't sound," said one of the drunkards. The others nodded their head in agreement. "I find it's best to approach theological discussions without antagonistic views, perhaps your sister's pugnacious attitude stems from an underlying concern for your well-being," another drunkard posited. "Well I don't care -ugh- care about her!" shouted Janet. She was definitely drunk. "Janet," whispered Paul, "_Janet_."

"Everybody, this is -urp- this is my good friend Paul, he knows my 'family'!" Janet waved to him. Paul earned a respectful nod from the small crowd. "Janet your dad's coming here," Paul told her. "What?" asked Janet.

"Yeah she's right over there," the bartender told Stephen. Everyone in the room turned and stared at Stephen, who looked very out of place in the dim light of the pub. The small crowd dispersed with little murmurs as Stephen approached her. Paul went back outside, deeming his presence a hindrance.

"What do you -urp- want?"asked Janet with a scowl. "I just wanted… I just wanted…" Stephen tripped over his words.

"Wanted what, to yell at me some more!" Janet slurred. Stephen opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out. "You know what dad, I'm sick of you," Janet declared with drunken gusto, "I want to see the world outside of this -ugh- stupid city!" Stephen fiddled with the envelope in his hands. "I just wanted to say that I-""-No!" Janet screamed, "I hate all of you! Just go away!" Stephen retreated away from the pub, unable to finish the task he had set out to do as Janet struggled to knock back another shot of liquor.

"Mr. Green," said Paul as he caught the tired old priest leaving the pub. "Paul," Stephen said with a smile that quickly died. He looked at the envelope again. "Paul," he said, resting his hand on Paul's shoulder, "Can I ask you for a favor? Can you make sure she gets this?" Stephen handed the envelope over to Paul. "I will sir," replied Paul. "And can you tell her I… tell her that I… well uh-" "- I will sir" said Paul. "Good," said Stephen.

"Well, till we cross that river again sir," said Paul. "Yes," said Stephen with a sigh. Paul slipped back into the pub as an old priest slipped away from his daughter's life. Paul grabbed Janet's arm before she could bring another shot to her mouth. "What the hell would you -ugh- for arm?" Janet asked with drunken incoherence. "How many have you had?" asked Paul with concern.

"Not nearly enough," said Janet with a smile, "C'mon let's go -urp- to the tournama …contest, uh…. that thing with Mark and the fighty." Janet struggled to her feet and collapsed into Paul. "I think I'm gonna puke," she said in a hoarse whisper. Paul supported her weight as he helped her stagger over towards the women's bathroom.

She hunched over into the toilet and panted, a cold sweat forming on her brow. Paul stroked her hair and kept it out of her face as she heaved over the toilet, her body rejecting everything she had accumulated in the short time they had been there. "Shhhhh," Paul whispered as she tried to rid the last of the foul tasting liquid from her mouth. Janet groaned as she pulled herself onto her feet, wincing at the pain in her abs. The bathroom stall was suddenly uncomfortably claustrophobic.

"Let's get you back to the hotel," said Paul. Janet trembled and hugged him. Paul was caught off-guard; her dishelveled hair smelled like a musty towel, her acrid breath was offensive, she was a gross sweaty drunken mess and yet she felt warm as she sobbed into his chest. "It's okay," Paul reassured her.

"I want to go see Mark," she said into his chest, "I- I said I would go and see...Mark." Paul nodded slowly and helped her clean her self up. He secretly slipped the envelope into her pocket and called her a cab, sighing as it carried Janet off to the gym.


	33. XXX ::: Lauren Green

_One Day in the Life of Lauren Green_

**Today I will tell you a legend that a dear friend of mine told me long ago. He always told it better than I did, but I shall try my best to do it justice.**

_**Long ago - in a forgotten land - a wise guide and a young traveler were journeying together on a treacherous mountain road. When they reached the top they could see all the world around them as if they were winged fowl on high. The wise guide beckoned the young traveler to sit by him and look out over the land through his marvelous telescope that he used to number the stars. The young traveler gazed at the beauty around him and was very pleased with his wise guides foresight. The young traveler would point at places and things and asked the wise guide to expound upon them, which the wise guide did in happiness. Then the wise guide pointed to a city that lay nestled in a far off valley.**_

_**The wise guide asked the young traveler, "What do you see?"**_

_**The young traveler replied, "I see a beautiful city surrounded by seven bridges, with radiant people therein."**_

_**The wise guide told the young traveler, "Look once more."**_

_**The young traveler looked again and then said, "I see also a tiny sleeping demon at the center of this city. What is this place?" The wise guide did not reply.  
><strong>_

_**Then the wise guide pointed at a group of figures next to the city and asked the young traveler, "What do you see?"**_

_**The young traveler replied, "I see an old man traveling away from that city."**_

_**Then the wise guide smiled and told the young traveler, "Look once more."**_

_**The young traveler looked again and then said, "I see also seven demons that follow close behind, each is of the build of two men with great arms that could rend mountains asunder and grind the coarsest stalk to meal. They are terrifying, ugly creatures; why do they follow him so?" The wise guide did not reply.**_

_**_**Then asked the young traveler of the wise guide, "How can these radiant people of this city great allow one as evil as this to live within their walls?"**_**_

* * *

><p>I don't understand why people fear graveyards; in the daytime they're actually quite beautiful. The way the sun reflects off the headstones, the way the flowers seem to meet you with elegance, I can't help but feel at peace with the world.<p>

It's funny how something can be terrible and beautiful at the same time, how something can cause joy and sorrow at the same time. That's how I felt, watching Lauren today.

There was so much reverence, so much reserve in her movements that I thought I must have stumbled onto a stage. It was a surreal experience; I was a returning native in a foreign land, we were kindred spirits, yet I could do nothing. She mourned and I watched her from a distance. I have never wished for human arms more. I wanted to hold her close and comfort her.

_He _had asked me to look after Lauren for the day, seeming to think that she would need my protection. I gladly accepted, not knowing that we'd be going there. I wouldn't have gone had I known what we were doing. We were going to see a grave. Well… not a grave so much as a tomb.

It was simple, but also poignant, just a little slab of black granite. I never liked grandeur in memorials, it makes it all seem empty; but this memorial really struck me, I think it really captured it… all of it.

For the Unknown Soldier

_"Still thou are blessed, compared wi' me_  
><em>The present never toucheth thee."<em>

-Poet also Unknown-

I watched her in silence, just standing there reading that epitaph over and over. I don't think she cried, she just stood there. Before we left she placed a flower on the grave.

It was a sunflower.

* * *

><p><em><strong>The wise guide trembled and furrowed his brow. Then replied the wise guide, "Truly, this old man is noble, for why should seven demons follow him whence he goes, but he be a noble man?"<strong>_


	34. 31 :::: Bootstrap

_Bootstrap  
><em>

* * *

><p><strong>Gym Log: B607<strong>

* * *

><p><em>This gym log is property of the Johto Pokémon League. Tampering with, destruction of or other willfully antagonistic actions directed at this log or any record pertaining to the <em>Johto Pokémon League<em> gym's operations - be they fiscal or managerial - is considered theft/vandalism and is punishable by the swiftest arm of the law._

* * *

><p>Battle Number: 607 - Victory<p>

Trainer: Marcus Green (Kanto, Vermillion)

Grade: 2 (Falkner ,Bugsy)

Team: Lauren Green, Tracy Stone (see Battle Number: 463), Janet Green

* * *

><p>Battle record<p>

Opponent's Pokémon: Wooper, Ariados, Growlithe, Swablu

Leader's Pokémon: Porygon, Loudred, Chansey, Watchog

Whitney sends out Watchog

Trainer sends out Growlithe

Watchog uses sand-attack (hit)

Growlithe uses bite(miss)

Watchog uses bite (hit)

Growlithe uses leer (hit)

Watchog uses bite (miss)

Growlithe uses ember (hit)

Growlithe uses bite (hit)

Watchog uses sand-attack (hit)

Watchog uses crunch (hit)

Watchog uses crunch (hit)

Growlithe uses flame wheel (hit)

Watchog is unable to battle (KO)

Whitney sends out Loudred

Growlithe uses bite (miss)

Growlithe uses bite (miss)

Loudred uses uproar (hit)

Growlithe uses ember (hit)

Loudred uses uproar (hit)

Growlithe is unable to battle (KO)

Trainer sends out Swablu

Swablu uses sing (miss)

Loudred uses uproar (hit)

Swablu uses sing (miss)

Loudred uses uproar(hit)

Swablu uses peck (hit)

Swablu uses peck (hit)

Loudred uses howl (self)

Swablu uses fury attack (hit)

Swablu uses peck (hit)

Loudred uses stomp (hit)

Swablu uses take down (hit)

Loudred is unable to battle (KO)

Swablu is unable to battle (KO)

Whitney sends out Porygon2 

Trainer sends out Ariados

Ariados uses string shot (hit)

Porygon2 uses conversion2 (self)

Ariados uses night shade (hit)

Ariados uses scary face (hit)

Porygon2 uses tri attack (hit)

Porygon2 uses tri attack (miss)

Ariados uses night shade (hit)

Porygon2 uses recover (self)

Ariados uses poison sting (hit)

Porygon2 uses tri attack (hit)

Ariados uses poison sting (miss)

Porygon2 is unable to battle (poison)

Whitney sends out Chansey

Ariados is unable to battle (burn)

Trainer sends out Wooper

Chansey uses doubleslap (hit)

Wooper uses water gun (hit)

Chansey uses doubleslap (hit)

Chansey uses doubleslap (hit)

Chansey uses doubleslap (hit)

Chansey uses doubleslap (hit)

Wooper uses water gun (hit)

Chansey uses rollout (hit)

Wooper uses mud bomb (miss)

Chansey uses rollout (hit)

Trainer recalls Wooper (forfeit)

Trainer is out of usable pokémon

_Whitney wins the battle (4-3)_

Leader's Comments:  
>Marcus is definitely a decent trainer, however he lacks discipline. He lacks knowledge about pokémon, but his team is excellent and more than covers his lack of knowledge. He will likely win many badges, but will probably lack enough fans to propel him forward into the league.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Gym Log - B607<strong>

* * *

><p>They waited in the lobby for their taxi to arrive.<p>

Marcus made quick circles round his pocket watch in frustration. _"Why am I such an idiot?"_ he asked himself. Lauren gave him a little hug to which he responded with squirming. "It was the best call Markie," Lauren cooed. "Markie?" Tracy snickered. "Mom!" Marcus whined. "You can't win them all," Lauren said. "Yeah Markie-Mark-Marcus," said Tracy. "Shut-up Tracy," Marcus snapped. "Hey is that any way to treat a girl," Tracy teased. Marcus let out a frustrated growl.

"Can we please just get back to the hotel, so I can brush my teeth a get some sleep," Janet moaned. "I put your stuff it in my room, you can sleep there if you'd like," Lauren said, "I'll be sure to be quiet in the morning.""Thanks," Janet replied sheepishly.

"I used to be quiet the drinker when I was your age," Lauren said. "That explains a lot," Tracy remarked. Lauren cracked a little smile at her comment in spite of herself. "Well we'll have some nice aunt and niece bonding time," Lauren said happily.

"Mind if I wait with you?" a familiar female voice asked the group. They turned and identified the owner of the voice: Whitney.

She looked remarkably similar to the Whitneys of the past, though that wasn't surprising. The league carried a strong sense of tradition and required gym leaders to look and dress a certain way to preserve that tradition. Red and white shoes matched the red and white shirt that flared out at her hips a little. The traditional shorts had been lengthened a few inches a few Whitneys ago due to the threat of lawsuits from activists, but the long socks that covered her calves in an obnoxious striped pattern remained. If you looked closely at her you could see the brunette roots hiding underneath her bright red hair.

"Not t'all," said Tracy, suddenly donning an accent. She usually did that when she met people for the first time, though with her sketchy memory it was hard to tell who she had already met.

"Thanks my new boyfriend is always running late," Whitney explained as she sat down with a sigh, "Ruben's an interesting one."

"H-Hello… Miss W-Whitney," Marcus blushed. "Don't mind him, we don't let him out much," said Tracy. "Don't worry about it," Whitney said with a giggle, "at least he's not the creepy stalker type; I remember this one guy who thought – you know what never mind. You probably don't want to hear me talk about work." Whitney had a refreshing innocence in her voice.

"We all have a few stories like that," said Tracy, "I bet our own Janet has created quite a few of them herself."

"I will not apologize for my physical needs," Janet said. Lauren felt a shameful joy in hearing Janet discuss such things in her presence: now she knew she was the 'cool-aunt'. The four girls giggled madly together leaving Marcus the odd man out.

"Yeah, well I'm glad Ruben isn't like that," swooned Whitney as she refocused the conversation on her new boyfriend. He was all she could think about lately and she sometimes wondered if he was beginning to affect her at work. It was hard not to think about him. After all, most of the guys she went out with were looking for social arm candy that they could take to fancy parties and show off to all their rich friends. Whitney was never into the party scene, she always felt she was still a farm girl at heart. That's why she liked Ruben; he understood her situation.

"So is he a trainer?" Tracy asked, sensing Whitney's infatuation. If Whitney was going to talk about this 'Ruben' guy, then Tracy figured they might as well talk about him. "Kind of, I mean we're not allowed to get involved with official trainers. He doesn't want me to talk about it," Whitney said. She couldn't believe how open she was being to these people she just met, was really this starved for human contact? "Ruben doesn't really want the media following us everywhere," Whitney explained, "He works with pokémon, but I wouldn't really call him a trainer per se..."

"Well that's good to hear," Tracy said. "Yeah you know how trainer guys get," Janet said. "What do you mean?" Marcus asked. The girls turned and stared at him for a moment. They'd almost forgotten he was there. "Well male trainers tend to get lonely out on the road… "Whitney blushed at what she was saying. "They just want you for sex," Janet said bluntly. Tracy nodded her head in agreement then said, "It's hard for girl trainers meet a good guy." She had a little wistfulness in her voice.

"My Marcus doesn't do any of that right?" Lauren asked with a nervous laugh, a little alarmed at the thought. "No he's too naïve," said Janet pinching his cheeks in an annoying way, "and that's why we all love him." He could smell the alcohol on her breath despite of all the breath mints she had sucked on. "Besides he already has a lady friend," Tracy teased. "That's all we are," Marcus declared, though he made a mental note to call Sarah later to see how she was doing.

"Soooooooooooooooooo," Janet wheeled around to Whitney, "spill all the sexy details! Let's hear all about this new boy-toy of yours!" Whitney blushed at Janet's candor. She liked how up-front she was, something about her reminded her of her little sister back home. "Well he's pretty toned," Whitney began hesitantly, "and he's a great kisser." "Mmmmm, how about his ass?" Janet asked. "Remind me to never ever to get drunk with you," Tracy said.

They heard a great rush of air outside as an altaria landed majestically in front of the gym. Whitney and the others rushed outside to meet Ruben. The three young people were a little surprised to see who it was. _"This is going to be good," _Tracy thought to herself with glee.

"Lisa my love, your Falkner has arrived," Falkner sang out as he recalled his altaria. Whitney ran up to him and they kissed. "Ruben, what took you so long?" Whitney asked. "I had to help the JNP plot some stupid crashed helicopter flight routes," Falkner explained. Falkner brushed the hair out of her face. "Well I got a little worried, could you call next time?" Whitney asked. "Sorry, I hope you didn't wait too long," Falkner said. "I had some company," Whitney said. "Oh who are your – Markets? What are you…" Falkner trailed off as his eyes found his way to Janet. His heart stopped and terror seized him.

He pulled Marcus away from the girls, breathing heavily. "Markers, what are you doing here? What she doing here? Oh man this is bad, this is so bad. Everything was going so well, and I really liked her and now an ex shows up! What are we going to do man?" Falkner asked in frightful terror. "…Your name is Ruben?" asked Marcus.

Whitney giggled quietly in the distance. "Isn't he just the cutest when he does that '_nobody can hear me even though you're right next to me_' thing?" She whispered to Tracy. "Oh, he's something alright," said Tracy. "You're dating Falkner?" Janet asked, still surprised to see him there. Falkner and Marcus rejoined the girls after a moment of discussion. "Uh… hi Janet," said Falkner. "Hey, Falkner," said Janet. "Oh you two know each other?" asked Whitney. "I'm sure they do," said Tracy. The smile on her face had grown enormous.

Whitney looked from Falkner to Janet, the points slowly connecting in her head. "Oh you're _that _Janet!" Whitney exclaimed. "That's what people call me," Janet said. Janet was too drunk to feel all that awkward. Whitney gripped Falkner's arm a little tighter. From what he had said she knew she had nothing to worry about, but she couldn't help feeling a little jealous and defensive. They all stood there in tense silence. "Well, this is awkward," said Lauren.

"We went on one date, it didn't work out and we moved on," said Janet. The tension dissipated.

"So did you two have a little battle?" Falkner tried to start up a different conversation. "Oh yes," said Whitney, tearing her eyes from Janet, "He has the most adorable little swablu." Falkner smiled and touched his own pokéball. "I hope he didn't beat you too badly," Falkner said in a caring way. "Actually I kind of lost," Marcus admitted in shame. "Really?" Falkner cried out. "Morticus why do you always make my life suck?" he whispered to Marcus.

"I have an idea, why don't you watch our rematch Ruben? I have a slot available in two days," Whitney said. "Lisa, I can't just walk into the audience," Falkner said. "You could disguise yourself and watch from the team box! Oh, that would be so romantic," Whitney sighed getting swept up in her dreaming. "For you my love, I will," said Falkner with just a tiny catch in his voice. Whitney gave him a little peck on the cheek. "Please keep an eye on Janet, Tracy," Whitney joked, though there was a little suspicion in her voice.

"Actually I'm not going to be in the team box, I was going to go train my new team a little before I took on Chuck," said Tracy. Marcus was a little disappointed to hear Tracy talk about leaving, she'd been with him on his journey for a long time and he couldn't picture fighting without her mocking him from the of him thought she would always be there.

"If your training for Chuck you should stick with someone," said Falkner. "I hate that he gets to make up his own rules like that," said Whitney. "Yeah I know about his weird-ass doubles war system, but I don't think Markie-Warkie would be the best partner choice," Tracy snitted. "Hey!" Marcus exclaimed. "No offense, but you're just a little too ignorant," said Tracy, "besides what would Sarah think?"

"It'd be great if you came with us," said Janet. "_Us?_" thought Marcus. Tracy thought about it for a while. "Fine I guess I'll stick around and train with Marcus, for a while; but you better not slow my ass down," Tracy warned. "Uh… okay I wasn't thinking about slowing down your..." Marcus looked at his mom and decided not to finish.

"Great the fabulous three are back in business," said Janet. She grabbed them and pulled them close to her. She'd talk to Paul's professor tomorrow when she was feeling a little more sober, but for now three would have to do.

Lauren sighed as she watched the three friends. She'd be leaving her son to go home and prepare soon and she needed to appreciate the little moments of fun. The words her "friend" had spoken weighed heavy on her mind, though she doubted she had gotten the whole story from her. Even if what she'd been told was true, would she want to find... no, those thoughts were best left behind. The only thing she could do now was wait and see if the mist would clear in time.


	35. 32 :::: Tardigrade

_The Water Bear_

Now hear a tale of little weight,  
>Take heed of tales with care.<br>Come quick, and stoop before the gate,  
>Hear of the water bear.<p>

A moon put high into the sky,  
>By one unchanging fist.<br>Will cast pale glow, on all below,  
>And fight the deep dark mist.<p>

What in the shadow of this orb,  
>A proud and ancient school?<br>An institute of brick and stone,  
>Carved once by ancient tool?<p>

Gone are the students who were there,  
>The students have gone home.<br>Now one can hear a silent dirge,  
>From out the deep dark loam.<p>

The dirge doth sound from out the ground,  
>With rhythmic thump and thud,<br>It sounds out to the world anew,  
>Like ghastly drips of blood.<p>

And what sure soul travels these halls,  
>Where healers learn their art?<br>As one whom spies though telescope,  
>To learn of grandeur's start;<br>A sure soul doth draw ever near,  
>The monstrous beating heart.<p>

The sure soul with his greasy beard,  
>With flecks of food inside;<br>The sure soul with his yellowed shirt,  
>Draws near and does not hide.<p>

The sure soul with his belly fat,  
>That hangeth out with pride;<br>The sure soul with his stain'ned teeth,  
>Draws near and does not hide.<p>

Draws near and near and does not fear,  
>As he the corner rounds,<br>The soul so sure, knocks at the door  
>From whence the thumping sounds.<p>

And suddenly the thumping stops,  
>The dirge doth sound no more,<br>Then presently a shadow flies,  
>And opens wide the door.<br>The door with a creaking shudder,  
>Opens for the soul so sure.<p>

But who should meet, and who should greet,  
>That sure soul at the door?<br>The stranger calm, on Gilead's balm,  
>Sees in the sure soul more.<p>

For while the sure soul is a mess,  
>A filthy man who's old;<br>The sure soul is both wise and kind,  
>And walks upright and bold.<p>

"Hello Paul I did look for you,  
>But you I could not find,"<br>So spoke the soul to the stranger,  
>Thus spoke the sure soul kind.<p>

"I have a need to speak with thee,  
>And I must not delay,"<br>Thus spoke the sure soul kind to Paul –  
>Who had these words to say:<p>

"Hello professor, how are you?  
>Why art thou up so late?<br>Surely this urgent business could,  
>Until the morning wait?<p>

I was just punching at that bag,  
>And now am full of tire.<br>I wish to go back to my bed,  
>So what dost thou inquire?"<p>

"A woman came to me today,"  
>The sure soul said to Paul,<br>"A woman came to quit this place,  
>To quit but 'twas not all."<p>

"What does this have to do with me?  
>Oh kind sir I wonder:<br>If you in coming here tonight,  
>Have made a small blunder."<p>

"Now Paul you know I know things –  
>For in our talks a'prior;<br>Your words betrayed unto mine ears,  
>A deep resounding fire.<br>I know this woman is the woman  
>Of your heart's desire."<p>

And Paul with sadden'd look across  
>his brow turned back his eye,<br>The words that the sure soul had spoke,  
>He could not now deny.<p>

"Why seeks't thou me, she wanders free,  
>I cannot make her stay.<br>So what would you, have me to do?"  
>Thus spoke the stranger grey.<p>

Then the soul sure, with mighty roar,  
>Did this boldly declare:<br>"Paul thou shoud'st pack thy things and leave,  
>Go to thy woman fair!<br>Methinks that woman loveth thee,  
>Though she be unaware."<p>

Said stranger to the soul so sure,  
>"I cannot yet depart,<br>For I must study more with thee,  
>And learn the healer's art."<p>

The sure soul scratched his greasy beard,  
>And sat down with sad sigh;<br>He told Paul of a memory,  
>Of old summer gone by.<p>

"Once ages past I knew a lass,  
>With rosy hair so red,<br>Oh Paul! She was my only friend,  
>Don't in my footsteps tread.<p>

Oh Paul! Oh Paul! I loved that lass,  
>Her rosy hair divine!<br>Oh Paul, Oh Paul, I loved that lass,  
>But did not make her mine.<p>

Once I met her in flowered field,  
>It was the bright July.<br>Oh Paul, she was so beautiful,  
>When we met I to I.<p>

Her red hair flowed in gentle wind,  
>Her smile was serene,<br>Even in age, even in death,  
>I shan't forget that scene.<p>

Our lips met once and nothing more,  
>Our hearts, they abated!<br>Oh Paul! Oh Paul! I am alone,  
>For we both simply waited.<p>

And it passed by, passed by, passed by:  
>Passed by, Passed Spring, Passed Fall.<br>I heard no more from my true lass,  
>Until the day that call…<br>Oh Paul, Oh Paul! Alone, alone;  
>I am alone. Oh, Paul!<p>

Sometimes I go and visit her,  
>For all that it is worth.<br>My rosy lass waits still for me,  
>Within the deep dark earth.<p>

Death rides on swift and silent wings,  
>For those who simply wait.<br>Oh go, go now to thy true lass,  
>And no more tempt thy fate."<p>

Thus spoke the sure soul kind to Paul,  
>He spoke of days long done;<br>And Paul no reply did he make,  
>Excepting this and none:<p>

"I am no prisoner, I am free,  
>Am free, but at what cost?<br>For freedom is no gift to me,  
>'tis naught but endless frost!<p>

A vast pool of glaciers lurching –  
>A shifting sullen sea.<br>A sea that, aye: we keep searching,  
>For all eternity.<p>

I pity thee, and thy lass true,  
>But mine is not the same,<br>She doth not return love to me,  
>I will not play that game:<p>

Of mad madmen, who walk on cliffs,  
>and do not lightly tread.<br>Then, having seen the sea below,  
>They're filled with sudden dread.<br>For now they knows where freedom lies,  
>Oh, freedom's in their head!<br>The thought that whispers: tread not light,  
>Now tread harder instead!"<p>

The sure soul hung his head and sighed,  
>With thoughts on days of yore.<br>The sure soul hung his head and cried,  
>As he went out the door.<br>The sure soul only this replied,  
>Whispered this... nothing more:<p>

"Paul cross that river once again,  
>Leave nothing to regret.<br>Paul, listen to this foolish man,  
>And thy lass thou will get."<p>

The sure soul fled the ancient school—  
>Back into deep dark night,<br>The sure soul left this ancient ground,  
>The sure soul did take flight.<p>

The sure soul left this ancient ground,  
>That sure soul so mild;<br>The moon took pity on that soul,  
>And she warmly smiled.<br>And welcoming that sure soul home,  
>The moon embraced her child.<p>

And Paul in silence sat alone,  
>And in silence he stayed.<br>'Til with no crass or fearful groan,  
>A quiet choice he made.<p>

"I'll cross the bridge of Konigsberg,  
>to meet my lady there,<br>Protect her from that wretched fate."  
>Thus spoke the water bear.<p> 


	36. XXXIII Sun of Daedelus

_Sun of Daedalus_

**Sleep is such a wonderful thing isn't it? No worries, no cares, just drifting in dreams; I wish I slept more. In the wild, predators will seize you in your sleep, but in a warm lap there's no such thing as predators. I just want to melt away and sleep in that lap forever.**

* * *

><p>And it was one-on-one; a hushed silence seemed to meander its way through the crowd like an arbok poised over its prey. Whitney and <em>him <em>twitched nervously in anticipation and anxiety as they prepared for the showdown that would either bring them swift and glorious victory or soul-crushing defeat!

How'd you like that, pretty dramatic huh?

Forgive me if I don't share the same enthusiasm for battle that other people seemed to have – living in the wild all these years makes these mock-battles seem a bit silly. Oh and the war of course, not that I ever saw anything all that terrible besides you know…

Anyways I didn't really pay attention to much of the battle; I was too engrossed in napping to pay attention. It doesn't really matter how the other rounds went anyways, seeing as how they're already done. As with anything, only the end matters when it comes down to it. Well, I guess that in between crap might matter to someone like my 'trainer' who could actually study to learn from _his _mistakes, but I really couldn't care less. I just want to enjoy Lauren's lap while I can.

If you must know what went down in the last three rounds, I can hazard a guess. Carolyn was probably up against the togekiss – at least I think that's a togekiss, they're a rare breed so I can't be too sure... about the species that is, I'm positive about the match up. The league uses some kind of math to match up opponents based on how interesting the match will be, which is probably why we had the whole 'spinarak vs. spinarak' thing going on way back when. As for the other two: it's anybody's guess. Chansey and smergle don't exactly mesh well with wooper or ariados. If I had to, I'd probably put Charles up against the Chansey, since the sizing is more even.

The final battle's far more appropriate; Laura's fighting some sort of… I think it's called a 'herdier'? I've never seen one before, but suffice to say they have similar body types and moves and such. The girls and the Falkner are standing, so from the looks of things I would – Oh! I wonder if Lauren wants to stand? _He _is her son. That concept is still difficult for me sometimes. Wait… huh? Is it over already? Did I – did I stop her from seeing it? Crap! Why am I such a selfish idiot?

Well at least _he_ won and all. I don't think _he _could have handled another loss. This way we get to have a little party before we say goodbye to Lauren. It'll be sad to see her go, I will certainly miss her. Maybe I'll catch her again someday. Hmmm...

* * *

><p><strong>I'm so tired.<strong>


	37. 34 :::: Flash points

_Flash points  
><em>

"You monster," Jane whispered quietly to herself. Charles slowly wrapped the venomoth in his special casket. Though he said nothing, he felt a piece of himself wanting to wail in agony; like a screaming flare tearing through a brilliant night before it grow faint and turns aside again.

Suddenly, there was a humming noise. At first it seemed a little droning, and if the wind had rolled across a leaf at some ill conceived angle, but slowly the gray humming slipped into a steady chord that he had only heard about.

Jane paid no heed to the humming as she withdrew into herself in disgust. How could a creature be so foul in deeds and yet soft-spoken in speech? The thought of those dripping fangs poised over her made her sick. She hated that creature, that ariados! So why – Jane found herself lifted up with great force. She saw the dripping fangs a mere inches from her face and wanted to cry out in terror, but no sound formed.

Charles winced in pain as he felt the little drops of blood run down his face. He did not know the extent of his injuries as of yet; but if he was going to die here, it would not without a fight.

"Damn! That one's mine!" the scyther shouted at him. Charles instinctively rose into a threatening posture, taking his front most legs high above himself to make himself look bigger. "This one is mine!" Charles growled, the anger in his voice surprising himself a little.

The scyther merely gave him an amused smile and examined her blades in the light. "If I can't have one, I'll just take both," she said with a wicked delight, "I've never had ariados before." "Then I shall be proud to be your last meal," Charles replied with a power not his own.

The scyther narrowed her eyes at him. Charles did not falter. The scyther took a blade up to her mouth cautiously and licked the blood off of it. She spat it out on the ground and gave him a crooked smile. "You win today ariados," she said, "but mark my words, should we meet again I shall have to destroy you utterly." With that the scyther slipped back into the night.

* * *

><p>Marcus let out a frustrated sigh as the screen flickered and died out. "Guys we need to stop up by this rock, Jan can I borrow magnemite again?" Marcus said. "Didn't you just charge that thing yesterday?" asked Janet. "Probably wasted it all talking to his hot piece-of-ass," said Tracy.<p>

Marcus tried not to look upset or embarrassed. "No, it's these stupid trainers that keep on calling me every five seconds to talk about their pokémon!" said Marcus, "Like I care about your stupid rattata!" "Why'd you give them your number if you didn't want them to call you?" Blackjack commented. "I don't know," Marcus snapped back. Tracy waited for him to translate, but soon realized he was not going to. "I don't know what you said, but I bet it was awesome," Tracy jeered. Blackjack smiled and nodded for her, to Marcus' annoyance.

They found a good area to sit and rest while the batteries charged. It was a lovely day for a walk, all around them were happy people enjoying a stroll along the Goldenrod's outskirts. Janet pulled out a few sandwiches and passed them around, it would be an early lunch.

"Hey this is pretty good, you make this Janet?" asked Tracy as she broke off a little piece for Blackjack, who nibbled away at it happily. "Nah," Janet replied, "Paul gave them to me as a going away present for the road today." Marcus finished the last of the sandwich and took off his shoes. "Hey what's with that whole Paul situation anyways?"

"Well I talked to our professor, and he said that it would be good for Paul to come with us," said Janet, "Paul wants to become a traveling doctor rather than a hospital-ly doctor, so as long as he records all the people he treats the school's willing to sponsor him as part of one of those stupid outreach- here, it's all in one of my phone message thingies." Janet rummaged through the bottom of her bag and pulled out her phone. Then she promptly dropped it. Tracy picked it up with a sigh, "Honestly you two…"

Tracy read through the messages quickly and handed the phone back to Janet. "He says he can meet us up in Ecruteak in about two weeks," surmised Tracy, "I'm going to sign us up for the bug-catching so we don't have to wait too long and so you and I can get some training done."

"What's the bug-catching contest?" asked Marcus. "It's this three days long contest where people go out and try to catch the best bug pokémon, it's a Goldenrod thing," explained Janet, "Sign me up too Trace, I want to see if kinematic-interception would apply to…" Marcus frowned, "I already have a bug-type pokémon though." Tracy smacked him on the forehead, "So do I, it's also a great place to train bug-types and get cool prizes." "…which is why we must account for the moon's gravity…"

"And besides all that, they provide you with free rooms and hot showers, Arceus knows how I miss hot showers," said Tracy. She rested her head in the grass and imagined the sun's rays were streams of warm water. Janet nodded her head in agreement as she finished her rant along with the last piece of her sandwich. "Speaking of showers, how are the accommodations in Ecruteak?" asked Janet.

"The pokémon center was a dump, but we can always rent a room at one of the hotels," Tracy said. She shifted to her side, trying to get more comfortable. "Ecruteak is a historic town like Azalea," said Blackjack via Marcus. "Yeah that's right," said Tracy, "I don't remember what's interesting there though." She pulled out a guidebook and thumbed to Ecruteak. "What does it say?" asked Janet after a few minutes. Tracy began to read off the list.

"There's an ancient civilization museum - that sounds boring. There's a walking tour - just in case we weren't getting enough walking done. There's Cultural Hall – that could be interesting on the right day. Of course there's the gym for Markie-warkie. There's a little war memorial – those are always depressing, so no thanks. The rest is just a bunch of old buildings," said Tracy, "Everything but the Cultural Hall and the gym are pretty boring."

Marcus rubbed his watch. "I'm going check out the memorial," Marcus said. "For…" Janet said with a weak smile. "Yeah, it's only right," he replied quietly. "Oh I'm sorry Marcus, I didn't mean to-" "- It's fine," said Marcus. _"Why am I so stupid!"_Tracy cursed herself. Marcus laughed a little and slipped his hand out of his pocket and said, "We should get going if we want to get those hot showers."

* * *

><p>Motivated by the prospect of good housing, the group carried themselves unusual vigor. Tomorrow they would be a short walk to the national park, but for now they set up camp and set their minds on the to-morrow.<p>

"Laura, help me catch us something to eat," Blackjack asked. "I'm trying to sleep, why don't you do it yourself?" Laura replied with a yawn. She rolled over to her other side to face away from him."C'mon get up, I'm getting hungry," said Blackjack. He nudged her until she stood up with a groan. "It's always about you isn't it," growled Laura. Blackjack just rolled his eyes and said, "Yeah, I'm doing this for _my _benefit."

"Fine! Whatever, I'll go," Laura said with a melodramatic sigh. "Thank you," said Blackjack, "Now, you can be the flusher again." Laura let out a whine. "I'm always the flusher, you always get the easy job," she moaned. Blackjack gave her an amused smile. "Tell you what, you can catch today," he said.

"Auggh!" Laura barked in rage, spitting out a tuft of fur. "Did you catch it this time?" asked Blackjack, barely suppressing a laugh. She had been failing for over an hour now. Every time she grabbed on to something it seemed to just slip out of her mouth, but that wasn't the worst part. The worst part was the stupid grin that had been plastered on Blackjack's face the whole time. "Well have to just try again," said Blackjack. "Oh, do it on your own!" Laura barked as she ran off in tears. Blackjack just stood there with a puzzled look on his face, but shrugged it off and continued his hunt without her.

Charles dipped his head in the pond and took a sip, watching the magikarp swim beneath the surface in little schools. He loved water, it was the reason he first wanted to go with Marcus. His earliest memory was when he was a tiny spinarak floating on the wind high up in the sky looking down on the ocean. Since that - something was watching him. "Reveal yourself if you will," said Charles.

"Damn, I must be out of practice," grumbled Jerry as he stepped out of the bushes. He dipped his head to take a drink from the pond, eying his surroundings suspiciously. "So how are you Jerome?" asked Charles. Jerry stared at the ariados and continued drinking. "Why are you always so polite?" he asked with a mocking tone. "I just am," replied Charles.

Jerry tried to think of something to say, but for a long time thought of nothing. He wasn't exactly social by any definition of the word. Finally he settled on something. "What are you thinking about?" asked Jerry in an attempt to make a friend. "Oh I was thinking about the ocean, have you ever seen it?" asked Charles. "Once or twice, it was really…"Jerry stopped talking as a strange noise grew louder. Laura burst out from the bushes in tears.

"Laura what is the matter?" asked Charles, who was not startled in the least. "Charles I hate hunting, why can't I just trap things in webs like you," sniffled Laura. "Couldn't catch anything huh?" asked Jerry with a derisive snort. "What the hell are you doing here?" Laura growled. "We were just conversing a little," said Charles. Laura gave him a confused look. "Why would you talk to him?" asked Laura. "I'm right here you know," said Jerry.

"He's just a thief," said Laura. "Will you stop saying that!" shouted Jerry. "Well it's true," Laura retorted. "Well look Miss I-make-someone-catch-my-food I haven't stolen anything since I was forced into your little gang," said Jerry, "In the real world, it's steal or die!" "Aughhh! They're all the same! Just shut-up!" howled Laura and she left the pond in a frustrated rage. Jerry grumbled as he headed off too.

"Well okay then," Charles mused aloud. Little did he know, a great change was rapidly approaching.


	38. 35 :::: Myrmeleontidae

_Myrmeleontidae_

"May I have your names?" the ranger asked. The ranger's uniform was neatly tucked in and pressed. He carried a wide smile that the always cheerful and excited. He would always make an effort to ask how other people were doing and reach out to the downtrodden. No matter how hard things got, no matter how bad the day; he smiled through it all. He was extremely annoying.

"Prism," said Tracy, "and this is Indigo and Buttercup." Marcus gave Tracy - Prism a funny look before realizing he was better off not knowing. "Okay y'all, here's your passes! Make sure you read the rules before you get started, or do you want me to walk you through them?" the ranger asked, getting a little too far into Janet's personal space. "Uh, we're good," Janet said, backing into a large potted fern. The ranger was sad for a second, but soon spotted someone else to talk to and headed off.

"Indigo?" Marcus sighed, "You told them my name was Indigo?" Tracy opened the envelopes with all the stuff in it and pulled out the passes. "I was tired. Besides your Buttercup, Janet is Indigo," said Tracy as she distributed the passes. Marcus went to start protesting, but Blackjack stopped him. Tracy pulled out the rule sheet and started reading aloud:

"Ahem, Thank you for participating in the Bug-Catching contest. The bug-catching contest a government sponsored recreational activity, all entrance fees go to supporting and maintaining the National Park and other P.F.D areas. We hope that by allowing – boring, let's skip forward a bit," Tracy said, "Okay here we go. Don't steal, don't set things on fire, don't attack other people, don't litter, don't destroy property… basically don't be an asshole. I'm looking at you Indigo."

"What about the contest rules?" asked Marcus impatiently. "I was getting there Marcus," snapped Tracy, "You may form a group or choose to compete as an individual, both are considered as single parties and the following rules apply to each equally. One: Only one bug-pokémon may be kept at any time per person, however only one per party may be presented to the judges. Two: You will have three days to capture a bug-pokémon before judging. Three: Only bug-type pokémon may be caught. Four: Battling within the park is prohibited during the contest, you must capture pokémon without battling. Five: Follow all posted notices. Six: Respect other participants. Seven: Obey park rules and regulations. See Section… okay that's all."

They each read over the rules again, taking time to understand them. "So do you guys want to be a team or what?" asked Janet. "I don't care either way," said Tracy with a shrug. "I say we split up!" said Marcus. His competitive spirit was strong today. "Okay then Mark," said Janet, "You're on!" Tracy smiled and shook her head as the two ran off with competitive spirit.

* * *

><p>Jane waited patiently, carefully drinking the sweet tree sap as she waited for this Charles. The world was a frightening place filled with danger and Laura had promised she'd get Blackjack to work the humans over and get this Charles to protect her. This Charles was the only pokémon in their group she had yet to meet and from the sound of it, would be the one she would feel the least uncomfortable with. Jane had lived her life underground and this world of no boundaries frightened her, she needed someone who would understand. Laura had said this Charles was gentle and more importantly a bug-type like she was. But where was he?<p>

She heard an awful noise and terrible fear filled her heart like a chilling wind. Jane felt as though a thousand eyes hungered for her in the night. She wanted to cry out into the night and she wanted to stay quiet and hide. Should she wait for this Charles or should she run away? No, what if something wanted to eat him? How could she live with herself if she caused his death in her cowardice? Cautiously, cautiously oh so cautiously, cautiously Jane crept toward the source of the awful noise; wrestling with a mighty titan of fear in each cautious step. She heard the awful noise again and panic fell upon her like wine on white carpet. Forget this Charles! She had herself to worry about! She ran and ran and ran as fast as her tiny frame could carry her. A sticky tongue licked her in her running and she began sprinting, fleeing, dashing for her life!

Her legs moved slower and slower as if she were stuck in tar. What was happening! She opened her eyes and saw that the great tongue had wrapped itself around her legs, it was white like a corpse and smelled awful. Jane began to thrash around wildly, trying to get the tongue off of her. What was this immense creature and why did prolong her suffering? Jane froze as she heard the awful noise once more, this time right beside her. Was this the fate of Charles? She thrashed harder, trying to escape. "Shhhhh," a voice hissed, "All the pain will soon be gone." Jane froze as the dripping fangs drew near, froze as the dripping fangs stroked her, ready to penetrate her flesh. Oh, what an awful way to die! Poor Charles! She screamed out one last time, "B-B-B-Blackjack! Ch-Ch-Ch-Charles!" The fangs delayed.

"Oh, you are Jane?" the fangs hissed. They knew her name! Jane realized Charles' last words must have been her name. Perhaps they would be together in another life. "My apologies," the fangs said, dripping with venomous glee at the thought of her flesh. Jane felt the tongue fall off her body and she fell to the ground with a dull thud. She recoiled in horror as the fangs dropped down and moved towards her. "Ch-Ch-Ch-Charles!" she screamed again. "What is it?" the fangs asked. "W-What did y-y-y-you do to Ch-Charles?" she squeaked. The fangs laughed, a deep and evil laugh. "I am Charles," said the fangs. Jane was confused.

"Huh?" "I am Charles," the fangs said again. Charles chuckled again, "Sorry, I used mean look on you, I did not know you were Jane." Jane's head swum in agony. Laura had lied to her! This was not the gentle being of understanding she had been promised: this was a monster! She cowered and wait for the monster to make its final strike. "Ah, one moment, this was a good spot," said the fangs. Jane peeked her eyes open as the monster attended to its prey – a venemoth. She wanted to move her legs but, could not.

* * *

><p>The first two days passed without major incident. Marcus had a few scrapes and bruises from his own carelessness, but for the most part everyone was alright.<p>

Tracy shifted into a more comfortable position, not really caring that it exposed her to passing bug-pokémon. She hadn't caught anything yet and she didn't really want to catch anything if she could help it. Sure the cash and evolutionary stone would be nice - she did want a nidoking eventually- but there were other ways of getting stones.

She still pretended to be competing at night before bed - for Marcus' ego, but in all honesty Tracy didn't care who won the bug-catching contest. It was a convenient way to solve problems. It was time for her to reflect on events and plan.

Goldenrod had been pretty rough on Janet, though Janet tried to hide it. Of the three people closest to Janet, one was currently absent and the other insensitive. Tracy cursed Marcus silently, _"Why are you such an idiot?"_ The whole point of the bug-catching contest was to give Janet a chance to cool off and talk about things! Why did he have to go and ruin it with his stupid "let's split up" idea!

Still, maybe it was for the best; the contest was keeping her busy and she seemed happier. Tracy had gotten her to a better point than she was before and hopefully Paul would help her when they got to Ecruteak.

Tracy wouldn't have even thought about going to Ecruteak with Marcus when they first met, but a lot had changed since then. She was pretty used to the idea of Marcus being psychic now, though it still got her worked up a little when she thought about it for a long time. It helped that he was a little more comfortable about it. She still couldn't believe that she was one of the only people who knew about it. It made her feel unique.

It was just her, Janet and Paul who knew and of course Lauren too. She liked Lauren a lot, she acted a lot younger than she was, but was still mature and sensible. Sometimes Tracy forgot that Lauren was even related to Marcus at all let alone an adult that was twice her age and then some. She was even amazing with technology, unlike Janet or her son. _"I bet it comes from their father's side,"_ mused Tracy. She quickly admonished herself again.

She brushed some dirt off her pants and yawned. She was going to be on cooking duty for the next week, might as well get some sleep now...

* * *

><p>Marcus crept quietly over to where Blackjack was sleeping and shook him gently. It was early morning, the perfect time to catch bug-pokémon, or so Blackjack had told him. Marcus was going to need his help if he wanted to beat Tracy. He had one more day to catch something better than her and he was going to be spending any time sleeping. He nudged Blackjack a little harder, trying not to rouse the girls.<p>

Blackjack shut his eyes tighter with a frustrated growl. "Come on I need your help today," Marcus whispered as he shook the pokémon harder. "I was sleeping," Blackjack growled. Marcus continued to shake him until he opened his eyes and stood up on wobbly legs. "Fine I'll go," he said.

It was not cold outside, it was damp. The moon's tears had spread out across the land in the form of a fine dew that flicked every which way as they knelt in the grass and waited for their prey.

"Come on, let's go this spot's no good," said Marcus.

"No good, we just got here!" Blackjack muttered bitterly.

"But we haven't seen anything yet," said Marcus.

Blackjack flicked his tail in irritation."You're too impatient, hunting takes time," Blackjack snipped at Marcus.

Marcus frowned. "Hey, what's with the attitude," he said.

"Oh I'm sorry that my attitude is inconveniencing you, I forgot I was supposed tend to your every need," Blackjack shot back sarcastically.

"I said I was sorry about waking you up," said Marcus. He fiddled with a blade of grass and hunched his shoulders a little more.

Blackjack looked down and sighed, "No, I am sorry, I should not have lost my temper."

"Why do you do that?" asked Marcus in frustration. "Do what?" asked Blackjack.

"You don't have to apologize to me!" shouted Marcus, "I'm not a kid!" Blackjack smirked at him for a little while then looked away to some point the distance. "It would be best not to shout," said Blackjack quietly. Marcus thought Blackjack looked tense as they continued to wait for a bug-pokémon in silence.

"So why do bug-pokémon come out in the morning?" asked Marcus, trying to make up for his mistake with awkward small talk. "I suppose it's to avoid the sun, though I can't say for sure," Blackjack nodded his head and grunted: he seemed less irate.

"You're a dark type right? Aren't dark types nocturnal?" Marcus asked. "Yes for the most part, though like humans we can switch with time as I have," said Blackjack. Blackjack turned to face Marcus who was smiling back at him.

"I know what you mean," said Marcus, "When my mom was saving up for her business she used to work night-shifts. She would tell me she was a noctowl." He chuckled to himself and dropped the blade of grass. "Your mother had to work hard for your sake," muttered Blackjack. "Yeah," said Marcus. He rubbed his watch slowly.

"The government was supposed to pay her but they never did," said Marcus. "Is that because your fa-" "-Yes," Marcus interrupted. His smile faded a looked at his feet and said no more.

"Let's talk about you," said Marcus, "We never talk about you."

"What is there to talk about?" asked Blackjack, "I'm just an umbreon."

"Well what about your family?" asked Marcus. "…My family?" said Blackjack. "Yeah even pokémon have mothers right?" said Marcus. "My parents are dead," stated Blackjack. Marcus frowned and rubbed his watch faster. "…This was a stupid thing to talk about, I'm sorry," Marcus said. "We all die Mark, some sooner than others," said Blackjack. "Wow, that's a little morbid," said Marcus with a small chortle. "I tend to get that way without proper rest," replied Blackjack with a smile.

The sun peeked over the horizon casting a brilliant stream of light on the umbreon's eyes. Those red, expressive, large, uncaring eyes; they glowed as softly as golden pulsing rings in the ebony fur.

"We should move on, the winds have scattered our scent too far in this area."


	39. 36 :::: Mantodea

_Mantodea_

The boy and the umbreon trod carefully around the placid lake. A low fog clung to the surface, obscuring their reflections to the point that they could not tell where one began and the other ended.

The umbreon dipped its head to the lake surface past the fog staring at its reflection for a moment then cautiously lowering its head to take a drink. The water was very cold, cold to the point of being a little painful. What a wonderful pain it was as it soaked the umbreon's dry tongue filling the cracks and expanding the tiny blood vessels that for so long had been without water - it was so pure and yet it taste as though it were laced with some hitherto unknown mineral or salt that added a mysterious sweet imagining to the act of drinking. The boy drank not.

"Blackjack, did you mention something about having a trainer once?" Marcus asked. The question had been burning on his mind for quite some time now and though he felt awkward for meddling where he should not meddle, the Siren song of curiosity was too great to resist. "No," said Blackjack.

From the way he said it, Marcus could tell there was something behind, something Blackjack did not want to speak about, something that hurt the umbreon. Marcus did not want to upset him, but he wanted to help him if he was in pain. "Are you going to drink?" asked Blackjack. Marcus sat down buy the lake and shook his head no.

"Eevee only evolve into Umbreon when they're happy right?" asked Marcus. Blackjack looked him straight in the eye and smirked, "Somebody's been reading up. It also needs to be night time." "Did you ever meet anyone that wanted to be a Flareon or a Leafeon but accidentally evolved into something else?" asked Marcus. The conversation seemed to be more appealing to Blackjack and he wanted to make him happy. "For a while I thought it would be fun to be an Espeon, but then I realized how wimpy psychics are," said Blackjack. "Hey!" "I'm just saying…"

"I can't really picture you as an Eevee or an Espeon," said Marcus. Blackjack closed his eyes and drew his mouth into a tight smile, "I hardly remember it myself." Marcus' expression lit up as another question entered his mind. "How old are you anyways?" he asked. Blackjack frowned at the question and Marcus knew he had failed again and asked the wrong question. "I have been an umbreon for about two decades I think," Blackjack said slowly. Marcus sighed in relief then frowned a little. "What is it?" asked Blackjack. "I thought you were older than that," said Marcus. "Our years are not as man's years," explained Blackjack. Marcus frowned and looked at the lake, the mist clearing from the surface in the heat of the early-morning sun.

Their reflections were very different on the surface of the placid lake. The umbreon betrayed no external signs of old age, maybe the question wouldn't upset him too much. No, he had already pushed his luck today, still what harm could asking cause? "Blackjack how long … I mean what is the …when do-" "-Spit it out," said Blackjack. "How long is an umbreon's lifespan?"

The question seemed to disrupt the peace of nature like ripples on the surface of a placid lake.

"…I have lived longer than most umbreon," replied Blackjack. "Well that's vague," joked Marcus. Blackjack smiled and chuckled to himself, "I will not be dying anytime soon, if that's what you're asking." He stood up and started to walk away. Marcus kicked a tiny stone across the surface of the placid lake, watching as the ripples slowly faded as they spread through its surface. "Hey wait for me!" shouted Marcus as ran to catch up with Blackjack.

* * *

><p>Janet plucked the string, letting the melodic vibration ease the tension on her mind briefly, before checking the numbers one last time. The kite wavered a little bit it the afternoon sun, but quickly stabilized itself thanks to its highly sophisticated engineering with which it was designed: it had, after all, won third place in the annual kite challenge four years ago. The deviations from standard kite design were almost unnoticeable to the untrained eye, especially since some of the variations were masked by a gleaming Mylar coating that had begun to wear thin after years of sitting beside an old tire in the park's storage facility. Though frivolous, the shimmering tails completed the aesthetic side of the kite, mirroring the dancing flames of the mythical firebird – moltres – nicely.<p>

Janet ran the numbers through her calculator, the only device she had ever truly mastered, one more time to see if she had everything right: everything had to be right. Math was not ambiguous; an answer was either right or wrong, never between. Math never lied to people; people lied to people. The calculator displayed a different answer than the one she had seen earlier, but it was only slightly different: to the point of being insignificant. Once a professor had taught her that there were only two kinds of error in science, instrumental and human. Surely, this was an error in her instruments. While she was proud of her resourcefulness, an old kite was not a precise tool for any experiment; save for a legend about the discovery of electricity from that forgotten country.

She had spent the first day researching in the rarely visited, but oft discussed ancient observatory that now served as a government funded weather station and storage facility for the sad artifacts that remained unclaimed after the various competitions. The woman running the facility was new and incompetent, but was eager to please and better with the computer based archives than Janet was. She was also somewhat knowledgeable when it came to the habits of pokémon, something Janet had never studied thanks to her fears. It had taken an entire day to gather enough data, but it would be worth it… or so Janet hoped.

She pocketed the calculator and reeled the kite in, dropping it off at the weather station as she had promised. She thanked the woman and invited her back to the cabin to share lunch while she translated the data in usable map coordinates. The woman declined reluctantly and so Janet ate lunch alone. She cleaned up and set to work translating.

"Damn," She muttered as the brittle pencil lead shattered into powder on contact with the map under the pressure of her writing hand. She sighed as she rummaged through her pack for a knife to sharpen it with, of course it had to be all the way at the bottom of her pack. She pulled the knife out with some difficulty, it had managed to get itself wrapped in some crumpled paper, some kind of envelope that she didn't remember having. Pulling them out, she inspected the envelope with curiosity. _"Where did this come from?" _Straightening the envelope out, she turned it around and examined the word written in tiny print on the top flap:

"_Daughter…"_

Realization dawned on her. She dropped the envelope in disgust with a groan as if she had learned it was the warrant for another man's death. "Who does he think he is!" she shouted to nobody. Anger swelled within her and all the excitement that accompanied the competition was lost. She grabbed the knife and hurriedly cut away the seal, opening the top flap. _"No!" _she thought to herself, she wouldn't give him the pleasure. Janet wanted to rip it up, that would show him! Janet smiled as she imagined her father sitting in his stupid church worrying about his stupid letter and getting an envelope filled with the stupid ripped up pieces of his stupid letter.

She gripped the edges to tear it, but did not. Janet let out a frustrated wail. Why couldn't she do it? Then another thought crossed her mind, "_Send him the ashes instead! It would be much more fun to burn it." _She fumbled around her pack looking for a fire source, but found none. Less enraged, she crushed them envelope into a little ball and stamped it with her foot, then tossed it into her pack vowing to get Mark and his growlithe to burn it later.

She took the knife and sharpened the pencil quickly, nicking her finger with the blade in her fury. She scribbled the location quickly on the map, the best thing she could do is win, win for rationality, win and show them. She marched with rage through the park, plotting things she could do with the letter and imagining things it might say. She managed not to cry.

As she patrolled the optimal area, she slowly calmed herself down, containing her anger and letting it fester within her. She heard a noise and ducked behind the bushes, thoughts about all the ways she was going to get her father back pushed to the back of her mind. She readied her pokéball throwing arm as the bug grew near, oblivious to the angry human nearby. She began toss the ball, if she missed then he would be right: math would lose. She had to catch it. She channeled all her anger, all her frustrations into the pokéball and threw it.

Janet stared at the still ball; dumbfounded as a little old man shuffled over to ball and picked it up."What the Hell!" Janet screamed at the old man. He jumped back in fright with a yelp of pure terror. "What the Hell are you thinking that was mine you little old bastard!" Janet screamed. The little old man cowered and breathed heavily, clutching his chest to make sure his heart was still beating. "Oh my, y-y-you… oh my poor heart," the old man moaned, still clutching his chest. Janet began to get a little concerned: if he had a heart attack, then she woudn't be able to beat the shit out of him for stealing her pokémon.

"What the Hell's your problem! That's my pokémon!" screamed Janet, though she screamed less loudly than before. "Ah, I did not realize you were there, I'm sorry miss," the old man said. He held the pokéball at arm's length for Janet to snatch it away. Once the pokéball was hers she calmed down a little bit.

"Are you okay?" Janet shouted. Her voice was still loud, though it carried less anger in it. "I'll be fine, I have been a married man for many years," the old man joked. He sat down to catch his breath. Janet stood over him with a grimace of anger, though it was no longer towards the old man. The old man took deep breaths as his ancient heart slowed to a more manageable pace.

"Look I'm sorry for going off on you like that but –" "- something else troubles you?" the old man said. "Y-yes… how did you-" "-it's always trouble with the young," the old man muttered to himself, "There is great hatred in your eyes." Janet looked down at the ground. He pulled out a thermos of tea and poured a cup. "Sit down, sit down," the old man commanded. Janet was absolutely stunned, but did what the old man told her to.

"Drink this it will calm your nerves," the old man told her. She took a sip and spit it out. "It's so bitter," she complained. "I didn't say it would taste good," the old man chortled. Janet wondered if this old man was a little senile. "Tell me, tell me," the old man commanded. Janet was bewildered by this old man's behavior. She wasn't going to tell this crazy loon her life's story! "Hatred is poison to the soul," said the old man, "I read that on a fortune cookie once." He chuckled a little. Janet frowned as she looked into the warm eyes of the old man. _"Who's he going to tell?" _she reasoned.

"It's, it's me and my father. We've had some … disagreements over life choices," Janet stated in the most neutral way possible. It didn't feel good talking about it. "Hmmph," the old man said. His eye seemed to darken a little. "I too, fought with my son over life choices," the old man grimly noted. "I mean, arceus, why does he care what I do with my life!" shouted Janet.

The old man brushed his fingers though his huge eyebrows and sighed. "I confess it is not right for the parent to choose which path a child creates, I recognize that now," the old man said with sadness in his throat, "If I had not shown such anger in my dealings then perhaps we would still speak with one another." "He's always trying to force his religion on me, like I'm still seven years old!" Janet vented. The old man stooped his head down, as if he were Atlas bearing an enormous weight on his shoulders.

"Nature is truly a cycle," the old man said wearily, "My son also choose the path of science and defied religion." Janet heard this and felt even more angry, "Why would you push him away like that? You're the same as dad is!" "I have tried to tell him that I wish to amend my ways, I only want to be a good grandfather for my granddaughter," the old man explained, "but he is still bitter."

"Well… well that's your fault," Janet snipped, she sounded unsure of herself. The old man smiled at her with a smile that exuded a pure understanding. "You'd be about my granddaughter's age you know – you're a little older but still, fiery as she is… Her career choice must give him much grief as well," the old man said. Janet said nothing, how could she say anything after that? The old man took his cup back and chuckled as he stood up slowly.

"Take care when fighting monsters, Miss," the old man said as he shuffled away.

"Wait! What's your son's name?" called Janet. He was already gone. She gripped the pokéball in her hand and closed her eyes. Maybe she ought to … no, she couldn't. She shoved it into her pocket and pulled out her phone. Janet needed to talk to Tracy, Tracy would understand.

* * *

><p>"What is it?" asked Marcus. They had been wandering all day without success and had stumbled upon something curious: a massive funnel of sand in the earth. Blackjack gingerly kicked a stone into the sand funnel, watching as the stone carried itself toward the center. "Is it a meteor? That would be so awe-" "-Shhhh!" whispered Blackjack. He waited for the stone to reach the center. There was a great flash of orange and the stone was gone. Marcus jumped back in surprise, "Is that a pokémon?" "I suppose; I thought it was some kind of trap," said Blackjack. Marcus began to grow excited, "Looks like all our hard work had finally paid off!"<p>

He pulled out half a sandwich and prepared to toss it into the sand funnel. _"I thought you said we didn't have any more sandwiches," _thought Blackjack angrily. Marcus tossed the sandwich into the sand funnel and watched as it slid down the slippery slope slowly. The orange flash devoured the sandwich before Marcus even had a chance to throw the pokéball at it. He grunted in frustration. "You know you could have just let it eat an open pokéball right?" said Blackjack. "…yes," replied Marcus sheepishly.

He rolled the park issued pokéball into the pit and watched as it turned the orange flash into a red flash. The pokéball wiggled a few times, then stopped. Marcus scurried over to the sinking pokéball and grabbed it before scrambling back up the side of the sand funnel to show Blackjack. "Good job Mark, let's see what it is," said Blackjack. Marcus nodded and released the orange flash.

The orange flash stood perfectly still exposed and confused in the daylight. It looked like an unfinished figurine that you'd find in an elementary school art class. Four legs thrust out from its perfectly elliptical thorax, stubby and jointless like they were attached at the last minute. It's whole body was the same color, that dull clayish orange-brown, save its bright white underbelly. The orange flash's most notable feature of course, was its giant head. It was like a watermelon, a perfectly round, orange watermelon. The head was so large that had it not been for the rocks that the creature frequently ate, it would have been unable to stand. The massive head was solely comprised of two things, eyes and a monstrous jaw. The orange flash's beady little black eyes were dark like coal from the furnaces of hell.

"Alright this thing is going to win for sure, this'll show Tracy!" cheered Marcus. Blackjack stared at the orange flash warily. "What is it?" asked Blackjack cautiously. "What should we name it?" said Marcus excitedly. He was oblivious to Blackjack in his excitement. "I'm going to name it Michael if it's a boy and Michelle if it's a girl, what do you think?" asked Marcus. Blackjack regained his composure and addressed Marcus sternly. "You only get to keep it if you place in the top three you know," warned Blackjack. "Oh, it might already have a name, you're right," said Marcus, still oblivious, "Ask it if it has a name already." Blackjack sighed and complied, not wanting to crush the boy's dreams anymore.

He approach the orange flash cautiously, "Uh, do you have a name?" It turned its head slowly. "My kind call me Dak'thar'bengalpsht'lax'twatarpen'clarthexiax, which in the common tongue means: 'he who dances under the sand with poetic justice'," said Dak'thar'bengalpsht'lax'twatarpen'clarthexiax. "Um… okay," said Blackjack, half confused half amused. "What'd he say?" asked Marcus. "Who is the psychic?" asked Dak'thar'bengalpsht'lax'twatarpen'clarthexiax. "He caught you," explained Blackjack. "Ah a Rhythmrunner, I have always wanted one," said Dak'thar'bengalpsht'lax'twatarpen'clarthexiax, "Then today I begin life anew I claim myself the name Kath'rax, but you may call me Golem," said Kath'rax. Blackjack was growing less amused. "His name is Golem," said Blackjack, "Now put him back." "Rhythmrunner, this day shall be henceforth known as the day of-" Golem declared, before being returned to his pokéball. Marcus and Blackjack ran back to their cabin to wait for tomorrow. He was sure he would win.

* * *

><p>"And the first place goes to…" The crowd's excitement was building, this was it, three days of their lives had been leading up to this moment. Marcus pictured the ribbon, the fame, the glory, the ability to gloat over Tracy in her defeat. It was so close. "…Indigo Green!" Marcus jumped up and down excitedly and ran up on stage. The announcer seemed perplexed, probably because of how dumb the name sounded. Marcus grabbed his prize and thanked the announcer.<p>

"Of all the idiotic stunts…" Blackjack shook his head and closed his eyes in embarrassment. Tracy waved frantically to Marcus as he waved to her cheerfully. The crowd stared at him in disbelief, there were a few ignorant people clapping for "Indigo", but for the most part everyone knew Marcus was not the winner.

Tracy ran up on stage and pulled him down, taking the ribbon from his hand and giving it back to the announcer. "Hey what gives Tracy!" grunted Marcus. "You dumbass," whispered Tracy, "You're Buttercup." Marcus became painfully aware of all the eyes fixed upon him. He turned around and noticed the big picture of Janet posing with her Scyther and suddenly wanted to shrink. Janet rushed on stage and tried to divert the embarrassment away from her cousin, since she knew he hated it.

"Uh, okay, give it up for the real Indigo Green!" the announcer cried out. The awkward clapping soon became genuine as the crowd recognized the actual winner. The announcer handed her the ribbon, still a little damp with her cousin's sweat. "As winner of bug catching contest Mrs. Green will receive a fabulous evolutionary stone of her choice!" The crowd cheered as the ranger Janet had met in the observatory brought out a display case with the stones in it. "Thank you for participating, we hope to see you next time at the bug catching contest!"

After the crowd began to disperse, the bug catching contest officials posted the results of the contest. Marcus made his way through the crowd of snickering people, he was pissed. He smiled when he saw Tracy's name in second last place with a Weedle, but where was his name? He frowned when he saw his name in last, not only had he not won, he received a negative score.

"Boy in all my years I've never seen a negative score," chuckled some old man. Marcus was dismayed, "This has to be a mistake!" Tracy stopped herself from laughing at him and tried to look concerned. "Cheer up Mark, I thought your bug looked neat," said Janet. "Congratulations Miss," said the old man. Janet smiled and nodded to him. "Hey, you remind me of someone," Tracy said to the old man. "Come on let's go talk to the judges," commanded Marcus. "I'm going to pick my prize," said Janet excitedly. She ran off towards the prize room.

"Let's see Mr. Buttercup?" the ranger said, "Yup negative points, didn't even bring in a bug type. Sure saved us a heap of trouble though." "What do you mean, that things totally a bug type!" Tracy stopped herself from telling him he should of checked on his pokedex. "No Trapinch is a ground type only," said the ranger. "What did you mean by 'heap of trouble'?" Tracy asked.

"Well every year we got to go round and kill these things so people don't go and fall in their holes," the ranger explained. "What you're going to kill Golem?" said Marcus. "You named it Golem?" snickered Tracy, "You can't do that, there's already a pokémon with that name." "Well I suppose you could keep it if you want it, I heard they become pretty powerful," said the ranger. Marcus took the pokéball and thanked the ranger, now glad he had saved Golem from death instead of being upset over his loss.

His gladness quickly disappeared when Janet came in with her new stone. "Here you go Trace, I hope it works," said Janet as she handed over the moonstone. "Thanks Janet," said Tracy quickly pocketing the stone. She wouldn't be using it until later, by then it would seem almost trivial.


	40. 37 :::: Boolean

_Boolean_

A few idle days had spun by since Janet, Tracy and Marcus had participated in the bug catching contest. They had opted to stop for a day or two at some scenic camping grounds for many reasons; the first and foremost being the relative cheapness of renting at the camping grounds compared to the tourist heavy hotels of Ecruteak.

Tracy saw the grounds as a good place to train against Marcus without her pokémon suffering the additional strain of walking several kilometers, but all Marcus saw was the only facility that allowed for video calling.

Marcus checked his surroundings, making sure that Janet was still keeping Tracy occupied with her planning. He didn't need Tracy monitoring and embarrassing him during his conversation with Sarah. He picked up the phone receiver gingerly and nearly dropped it. The phone was filthy, the grimy hands of hundreds of travelers had left it beaten and chipped beyond recognition. The receiver was covered in a thin veil of oil that felt like a disgusting combination of sticky and slimy; and gave the receiver the sheen of a sick man's forehead. Marcus looked around for something, anything, to wipe the receiver with, but found nothing.

Marcus wondered if he could psychically scrape the undoubtedly spittle filled speaker, but decided not to try for fear of some secret observer. In a way, that fear was justified: though the observer would not care. Marcus used his sleeve to hold the receiver, cursing the anachronistic receiver as he punched in Sarah's number.

The phone rang twice.

"Mfffffph, you want me to come in _again_?" a female groaned on the other end.

"Hey, Sarah it's me," said Marcus, "Uh… did I wake you up? I'm sorry I'll call back-"

"-no, no, it's fine. I should have woken up hours ago – what time is it… One! Hang on a second Marcus," Sarah said hastily.

"I can call back later…"

Sarah forced herself out of the bed; it was small and uncomfortable, but she had slept there many times as a child so she was used to it. A long time ago, before she was even born, there was no town around her father's lab and the people who worked there had to board overnight. Most of the quarters were converted into storage a while ago, but the two 'executive' rooms were kept. Sarah threw on some clothes and straightened her hair a little - even if it was just a voice call she still felt weird talking to a guy in her pajamas: especially when whatever was going on between them was as ambiguous as it was. Sarah often wondered if the kiss they had shared in Azalea was the result of circumstance.

"Okay, sorry to keep you waiting," said Sarah.

"No, it's fine. The service here is free as long as you rent a spot, we can even do a video call," explained Marcus.

"Yeah that'd be great, hold on another second," said Sarah hastily.

She went to the bathroom to fix herself up a little bit more. Sarah looked at herself in the mirror and sighed: she looked all gross. Being a policewoman was taxing to say the least. Long periods of boredom punctuated by high-stress action made for the best and worst job in the world: she loved it and she hated it all at once. She put on a little makeup, just enough to be presentable, and quickly brushed her teeth. _"Hopefully he won't notice," _she thought as she looked at herself one last time. She rushed over to the main lab, hoping that Sam – the lab assistant – hadn't skipped lunch again. Sarah was in luck, the terminal was free. She linked her phone to the terminal and soon Marcus was on the screen.

"Hey, it's great to see you," said Marcus.

"Yeah it's good to see you too," said Sarah with a smile.

"So how's life?" asked Marcus.

"Not so great actually, ever since I got back I've putting in a lot of overtime," said Sarah.

"Oh, how'd things work out with your boss after…" Marcus tried not to look too embarrassed.

"Oh, Sir gave me a pretty hard time, but hey what are you going to do," said Sarah. She blushed at the memory. "Let's talk about you a little bit, how've you been?" asked Sarah. She didn't like remembering that day, how close Marcus had come to death. She liked the heroic Marcus that defended girls in need, not the other way around. Though she liked defending the weak at work, when it came to romance she wanted a knight on a White Horse.

"I beat Whitney!" Marcus said excitedly. He pulled out the badge and showed it to her.

"Wow that's awesome! I'll have to take some time off when you make it to the tournament," gushed Sarah.

"Yeah you bet," said Marcus. "Oh and we also went to this thing called the bug catching contest," said Marcus. "Sounds interesting," said Sarah. She didn't really like bug-types all that much, but she wasn't going to tell him that during the middle of his story. "Yeah it was pretty fun," said Marcus.

"Did you win anything?" asked Sarah. Marcus chortled a little.

"Well sort of, Jan won first place with her scyther and I caught a er- Trapinser?- They weren't really supposed to give it to me, but a nice ranger said I could have it as long as I didn't say anything. We're supposed get them after all the paperwork gets filled out," explained Marcus.

Sarah laughed at the thought of the poor ranger filling out those forms, if the normal registration forms were bad, then the JNP forms had to be a nightmare. "You mean Trapinch," someone said. Marcus and Sarah were startled by the sudden intrusion. A lab assistant's head popped into view.

"You know, technically she should arrest you now," Sam said. Both Marcus and Sarah turned bright red. "Sammy, when did you get back!" asked a mortified Sarah.

"Don't worry I didn't hear anything," Sam reassured her, "but I need to make a call to the professor." "Oh yeah, dad's in Ecruteak so you should go talk to him if you can. Tell me how Laura is doing. You can ca-" the video call ended.

Marcus unrolled his sleeve and hung up the phone with a smile: every time he talked with her he felt relaxed afterward. He felt like he was floating.

"You didn't tell her," said Blackjack.

"… Were you listening the whole time?" "The foundation of a good relationship is trust, how can you expect to mate her if you don't tell her," said Blackjack.

"I don't even know if she's really that into me, we only-" "-I'm talking about your gift," said Blackjack.

Marcus frowned and looked down. "I'll, I'll tell her eventually," said Marcus, "It isn't something you can do over the phone."Blackjack scoffed at him, "Well you better do it soon because-"

"-Come on Tracy!" Janet squealed.

"Better go see what's going on," said Marcus. He thanked his cousin's pushy nature silently as he rushed over to see what was happening. "I'm not that kind of girl," said Tracy, retreating away from Janet. "Don't lie. Every girl is that kind of girl," Janet chided, "I've been stuck in a church school and a school full of anti-social nerdy guys." "What's going on?" asked Marcus. Janet snapped to him like a viper to a mouse.

"Mark! Tracy would look pretty in a dress right?" Janet asked. Marcus had to fight the urge to burst out laughing. "See I told you," said Tracy. "He doesn't want to say anything because of Sarah," said Janet indignantly, "besides it doesn't matter how you look when guys get enough alcohol isn't that right Mark?"

"Y-you know about the… incident?" Marcus asked. "Well of course! My mom was praying for you non-stop for like a week. I was so proud of you Mark," said Janet. "Ooo, what's the incident?" asked Tracy, reaching for any change of subject. "At the first party he ever got invited to, he ended up losing his virginity to some random drunk girl he'd never met," said Janet. "Seriously!"exclaimed Tracy.

"No! No, no, no, no: what happened was I drank a little too much," explained Marcus nervously,"When I woke up I was wearing someone else's clothes so I thought that I … but it was just a prank." "Aw, come on Mark! My version is much better!" whined Janet. "That's why I don't drink," Marcus said. "See that's another reason not to go," said Tracy smugly.

"I don't think they serve alcohol in the cultural center," said Blackjack. "… really?" asked Janet. She seemed very disappointed for a second, but then her face lit up again, "Which is why I need a friend to go with me."

"I don't even have a dress," said Tracy; her resolve was wavering. "Half the fun is picking out the dress!" exclaimed Janet. Tracy relented. "Fine, I'll go," she said begrudgingly, "but - but you better not laugh at me!" "Yay!" squealed Janet, throwing her arms up in a way that made her look about ten years younger than she actually was.

Tracy sighed, "Come on Marcus, let's go find some people to double-battle." "Wait I think your Trapinser and Ribbon came in," Janet said. Tracy let out another exasperated sigh, she liked it better when she got to pick out the names. "You actually have to let 'Ribbon' out of the ball every once in a while Janet, you can't just keep it in all the time like your magnemite," Tracy said. Marcus and Janet went over and got their pokemon.

Tracy watched as the cousins released their new pokemon, watched and smiled as they smiled. It was important that they hold onto to smiles.


	41. XXXVIII Tachyons

_Tachyons_

**I don't like ghosts.**

**I know that's a little weird for a dark-type to be saying, but it's the truth. It isn't that I'm afraid of them; I mean they aren't even really the spirits of the dead. Given the choice, the dead would not linger here.  
><strong>

* * *

><p>As I watched them, I couldn't help but feel sad…but I'm getting ahead of myself yet again.<p>

We met the Doc and Sarge a little while after we got into Ecruteak. I was glad they loaned Sarge to Paul for the duration of the journey, even if Sarge was denied all the "sassy nurses" back at the school. I guess I was happy to see the Doc too.

_He_ had been assigned to cooking duty as per the terms of the bet _he_ had made with my "trainer" over the results of the bug-catching contest. _He _isn't the worst chef in the world, but _he_ certainly isn't the greatest. Usually my "trainer" will give me a little nibble from the table, so the Doc and his generous portions are something I approve of.

It was a boring few days in the hotel while we waited for the gym battle. I accidentally broke some crap trying to get out for an evening stroll, so the hotel made Tracy keep me inside. She was pretty cool about the whole "pay for the damages" thing, but then again I did save her life back in Azalea. Janet and the Doc were pretty neutral about the whole ordeal, but _he_ was extremely embarrassed, since _he_ was there at the time. Some bellboy yelled at _him_, they were probably just angry about something else - but _he _took it pretty personally.

My "trainer" managed to cheer _him _up by getting _him_ a really great spot in the gym battle line-up. I felt bad about the incident, but it isn't too important right now: what happened during the battle is what's important.

I went outside to take a break; I thought I'd wait out there until they were all done fighting. I spent some time looking at the constellations, just thinking about little things, that's all. It was pretty warm for this time of year, but it one of those wet warms, like someone's standing behind you and breathing all over you. I was all by myself most of the time - that is until

At first I thought my mind was playing tricks with the moving shadows in the distance, but when I looked again it was human. It scared me to think how long he had been standing there, watching me. He seemed almost … familiar, like an old coat that gets pulled out every winter. I don't know why, but when I saw that man steeped in darkness, I felt a strange … longing. I can't say why, but everything about that man in black just seemed to put me in a trance, like I was under some sort of magic spell.

Well I wasn't going to have any of that. I'm the predator, not the prey! I ran at that man in black and that man in black immediately sprinted off. It was a long chase, I'll tell you that much – I have the scrapes to prove it. Through forestland, under fences, in alleyways and across abandoned streets. It felt like that man in black and I ran forever. That man in black was pretty agile; for a human: sometimes I felt like he was slowing down to wait for me. You know, looking back on it now, I don't really know why I chased him – guess it's just one of those instinct things. The harder it is to get, the more we want it.

This is a little embarrassing, but I lost him. Maybe I am getting a little old? As I rounded a wide corner I thought I had him trapped for sure. The walls were high, the alley was narrow: he didn't have anywhere to escape to. I know his calm manner should have sent alarm bells blaring, but for some reason all thought just seemed to escape me when I saw that man in black. The man in black escaped through a door, and that was the last I saw of him, though I foolishly thought I could catch him in his element.

It should have been obvious looking back on it, but as I said I was a little confused. I can't imagine how dumb I must have looked, frozen under the harsh lights like an idiot. The cultural hall … cultural center? – the culture place wasn't very full yet: the second exhibition starts pretty late. There were a few audience member scattered throughout the hall that must have thought it was starting, when I rushed out looking for that man in black. I tried to get off stage as quickly as possible- _he _doesn't need any more trouble. I must have made those people so disappointed – heh heh.

I pretty much abandoned my search for that man in black right then and there and settled into a spot where I could get a nice view of the upcoming performance. Sure _he _is probably wondering where I am right now, but hey I need some me time and I can find my way back to the hotel on my own. They like to switch it up at the cultural hall. I somehow knew it would be them - everything had gone too perfectly, you know? Well that, and it's the biggest ticket seller... and I guess the looks I got earlier were a pretty good clue that tonight's performance was going to be the elemental dancers.

It a weird feeling, not seeing another eevee evolution for such a long time, then seeing almost all of them all at once. Part of me wanted to get out of there, a big part of me, but I knew I was staying. The dance itself was the same as it had always been. Five human dancers and five pokémon: flareon, jolteon, vaporeon, espeon and… umbreon.

As I watched them, I couldn't help but feel a little sad. You really couldn't tell the difference between trainer and pokémon up there. Actually you couldn't really tell the difference between any of them, to tell you the truth. The saddest part about being an eevee is that you don't always turn out how you wanted to. Then even if you do, you always wonder what it be like to use thunder or to use psychic. It can eat you up inside, that knowledge… it can be so painful.

* * *

><p><strong>I always considered her a vaporeon.<strong>


	42. 39 :::: Regression to the mean

_Regression to the Mean_

The two girls walked down the narrow streets, looking for a café that wouldn't be too expensive. The road was cobbled, the rounded mismatched stones made walking on it like getting a massage. The girls enjoyed it, especially after all the walking they had been doing. Tracy focused on the cobbled stones as Janet skipped along in front of her, not caring about the looks she was getting from the residents. At least she looked happy today.

They found a themeless little restaurant that smelled promising and sat down for brunch - the front desk had helpfully pointed them 'real' Ecruteak, away from the tourist district where they could find crepes that weren't four times the price they should be. Tracy hummed a little as she took another bite, checking her phone quickly to see if Paul had sent the message to her. It seemed a little selfish leaving Marcus behind after his big loss yesterday, especially since it was mostly his team's fault.

She sighed in relief as the thumbnail of Blackjack expanded on her screen: he had returned. Marcus had been worried sick about him all night and she felt pretty guilty about letting him go out during the match. She had even agreed to let Marcus try again. Of course, it was probably that _other_ distraction that cost him the match, but that's why she was with Janet today.

"Blackjack came back," said Tracy as she showed Janet the photo. "Oh! Hey, that's great!" said Janet. The waitress brought back the receipt and handed it to Tracy. She smiled and thanked her before standing up and preparing herself for more walking. At least they didn't have to carry around big packs. "Well I hope you enjoyed that, because that's the last meal we're getting until we're done," said Janet.

Tracy sighed as she realized just how long this day was going to be. Janet had signed them up for the formal dance at the cultural hall tonight, thinking it would be fun to let the boys have a boys-night-out while the girls had a girls-night-out. However, the formal dance required a formal dress; something that they did not have. Janet thought it would be to spend the day shopping for dresses. Tracy did not.

"That one's pretty sexy, I'll add it to the maybe-pile," Janet said as she fingered through the racks. Tracy frowned as she held the dress up to her body and looked at it in the mirror, "It looks terrible on me, put it in the no-pile…". Janet stopped for a second and let out a frustrated groan. "arceus Tracy! You say that about every dress, you look great!" exclaimed Janet, "Which one looks better, this one or this one?" Janet held the two dresses up to her body. "I liked that one you had earlier," said Tracy, "It looked really comfy." "Are you colorblind? It was brown!" teased Janet, "It was hideous: I was just joking when I picked that one. Do you even want guys to look at you tonight?"

"Not really," said Tracy, "I was just thinking that this could just be a girls night out—you know; without guys?" Janet scrunched her face up in confusion, "duh it's a girls night out, that's why we're getting ourselves some hot ass!" Tracy sighed as she tossed the dress into the no pile; there was no use arguing with Janet. Janet suddenly realized something that made her feel terrible and embarrassed.

"…Trace, you know I'm your friend, you don't have to keep secrets from me," Janet said, putting her hand on Tracy's shoulder hesitantly. Tracy blushed and looked down,"...I'm not keeping anything from you." "I'm comfortable with who you are Trace," Janet reassured her,"It's okay that you like girls, hell I've always been a little curious myself, maybe later if you want we could... you know."

"JANET!" Tracy shouted, "I am not a lesbian!" "… well that's probably a good thing, since I was lying earlier," Janet said with a huge sigh of relief. Janet pulled her hand away from Tracy's shoulder quickly. "What the hell! What would make you think that?" Tracy asked.

A few of the other customers were staring at them. "Well I never saw you with anyone, but you seemed like you could get a guy if you wanted one, so I just… I mean I thought maybe back in Goldenrod when I… the way you always talk about Sarah… this is really embarrassing," said Janet. "Yeah it better be!" shouted Tracy. The entire store fell silent. "So why were you so opposed to this then?" asked Janet tentatively. Tracy flushed red in embarrassment as all the shoppers turned back to their affairs.

"It's not that I don't want a guy, It's just that it all feels so wrong," said Tracy.

"Wrong?"

"Yeah, I hate all the crap we have to do just so that some guy will look at us," said Tracy.

"Guys have to do the same thing," Janet pointed out.

"But that's what's wrong," said Tracy, "How can you tell if they really like you for you?"

"Who cares?" said Janet, "Guys will be guys and girls will be girls, as long as you're not the leftover kid that nobody wants on their team - they're really all the same in bed."

"I want someone who knows me, not some random guy," said Tracy. "arceus Tracy, I never pegged you of all people as such a romantic whiner," Janet scoffed. "No, obviously you pegged me as someone who wanted to have sex with other girls," Tracy snapped back. Janet opened her mouth to say something back, but words failed her. With that they went back to picking out and trying on dresses.

Tracy sighed as she looked at herself in the mirror. Maybe she was being too naïve when it came to love: maybe it was better to just go with the flow instead of waiting for someone. But how could she wear this dress. Tt was so uncomfortable! She felt like she was being strangled to death by some polyester anaconda. She threw the dress over the side and put her regular clothes back on. She didn't look very good in these clothes either, but they were her. They may have become a little worn since she bought them back when Marcus was badge-less, but they were comfortable.

Janet came out of the changing room with a delighted squee. "What do you think Tracy?" she asked. It was a little black velvet number that was very low cut and looked like it was about half a size too small. It was Janet all the way. "You look great," said Tracy halfheartedly. "Thanks Trace, have you picked yet," said Janet as she went back into the changing room. "No, I'm just going to have another look," said Tracy. "Well hurry up because we have to go get our hair done, then we have to go get…" Tracy slinked off as Janet went off on one of her rants.

She looked through the bargain bin of her size quickly; if she wasn't going to be comfortable in a dress then she might as well get something that was cheap. She pulled out a few outfits and ran back to the changing room to pick one before Janet caught on.

"Hey Tracy," said Janet from the other stall, "If you don't find a guy at this party then I was thinking that I could set you up with Paul." "First: it's a dance not a party," said Tracy, "Second: I thought you weren't speaking to him?"

Paul and Janet had gotten into a huge argument over some letter. The whole thing was an ugly mess of tears that undoubtedly cost Marcus the match. Tracy wondered if not stepping in had been the right thing to do.

"Yeah, I know, but we always get in fights like that," said Janet, "He just gets a little too worried about me sometimes." Tracy grunted as she tried to worm her way into one of the dresses, someone had put it in the wrong bin.

"That's why I think it'd be great if he got a girlfriend, someone he could worry about," explained Janet. "So I'm just a convenient distraction is that all?" teased Tracy. "No! I just want Paul to be happy, you two are my best friends" said Janet. Tracy rejected the second dress, it was a little too festive for her tastes. She looked at the third dress, it didn't look very comfortable at all. "I'll think about it," muttered Tracy, "_Janet's really that clueless huh?"_

The third dress was surprisingly comfortable. It made her feel complete, like she was herself in it. Tracy went out of the changing room and spun around for Janet. "I dunno, seems a little too 'greek goddess' in my opinion, but if you like it…" Janet trailed off. "Yeah, it's pretty comfortable," said Tracy, "I'll take it." "Okay then put your other clothes back on and we'll go get our hair done and then I'll do your makeup and we'll find some nice…" Tracy took the dress off and looked in the mirror.

Maybe it wasn't so bad.


	43. 40 :::: Event horizon

_Event Horizon_

Marcus counted the tiles as they gleamed under the harsh light of the monstrous crystal chandelier that hung like the sword of Damocles from the massive ceiling. They were arranged in some sort of bizarre pattern and try as he might, he could not figure it out. He'd have to ask Janet about it. Marcus checked his pocket watch impatiently. Where were they?

He adjusted the tie that Paul had loaned him so that he was a little more comfortable. Why did it have to take hours for women to get dressed? He looked as his watch again and adjusted his tie back up. He would just have to keep counting the tiles for a while. He turned around to prove a moving shadow. He saw something at the other side of the hall. It was… a girl. A pretty girl.

She was graceful, almost radiant. She was wearing a silky smooth dress that had a thin gold trim in just the right places. Her hair was done up with a matching ribbon in a way that balanced warmth with poise. She smiled coyly at him, the picture of elegance as she drew nearer. He looked away, afraid he might do something stupid if he talked to her. He already had Sarah! He went back to counting the tiles, but no she just kept on coming closer. Soon her shoes stood right next to his, her delicate little feet wrapped in them like little presents. She was talking to him, what could he do? Eye contact! He drew his eyes up towards her face, noticing the lovely opal necklace nestled in her bosom.

"…Is the cab here yet?" the girl asked him. "…wha?" Marcus managed to spit out. "Uh… Marcus?" the girl said, "Uh, are you feeling alright?" "Tracy is that you?" asked Marcus. "Yeah I know, Janet might have over done it with the makeup," said Tracy adjusting her hair a little, "You're lucky that you don't have to deal with all this crap on your face every single day."

"Hey Mark, is the cab here yet?" Janet shouted down the hall. She was wearing a little black dress that suited her personality. Paul followed behind her.

"Um… yeah I guess, no wait! I think it's coming in a minute or two," said Marcus. "See I told you you'd look great in a dress," said Janet, noticing Marcus' dopey grin. "Whatever," said Tracy, straightening her ribbon a little. "You look… really nice Tracy… like you actually look like a girl and stuff," said Marcus. "Mark!" Janet shouted, mortified. "No, it's fine," said Tracy, blushing a little at the kinda-sorta compliment – even if it was just Marcus.

"I bet the cab is here by now," said Paul, his voice as serene as ever. They watched it pull up to the corner with excited confusion: the cabs in Ecruteak were odd to say the least. They were the product of some fantastic madman's imagination. Pieces of old war machines were slapped together in every which way, gears and cogs whirred next to thin hoses that seemed to have no beginning or end; steam whistled out of odd places piercing the night's stillness at syncopated intervals. The whole contraption shuddered when it stop, seeming to breathe calmly like a benevolent dragon as it waited for its fascinated cargo. Needless to say, every self-respecting souvenir stall had tiny cast models of the cabs to hawk to tasteless tourists.

The cabin was surprisingly quiet for all the noise the special Ecruteak cab made. It was almost like being inside of an old-fashion diving bell: the seats were a twisted horseshoe shaped sofa that cut off at the door, lined with red velvet that almost matched Janet's dress in softness. And with a lurch forward they were off.

"Oh here's our part of the fare," said Janet, handing Paul some money. The conversation had been low-key up to this point and they were nearing the cultural hall. "No, no that's okay," said Paul, pushing the money back into her hands, "You girls go out and enjoy the dance." "And after that we party!" exclaimed Janet with an ear-piercing scream. The others were suddenly glad that the cab was soundproof. "I thought you said you were just going to the dance," said a muffled voice.

Janet let out a surprised yelp as Blackjack emerged from beneath her seat. "Blackjack what are you doing here?" asked Tracy. "Yeah, you were supposed to stay back at the hotel," said Marcus. "Now what would be the fun in that," said Blackjack mischievously, "What's with the tie?" The arrival light dinged as the cab shuddered to a stop. "Looks like this is our stop Mark," said Janet. She grabbed Paul's medical bag and pulled out a flower handing it to Marcus. "Tell him his niece says hello, okay Mark?" Janet said with a little smile. Marcus accepted the flower and nodded as she climbed out.

"Tracy wait," said Paul as she started to climb out of the cab. Tracy turned back to look at him. "Make sure she doesn't … I mean I just don't want–" "- I got it Paul, I'll make sure she's safe," said Tracy. "Thank you," said Paul with a tiny smile. The girls waved to them as the cab lurched forward once more, whisking the three off to their ultimate destination. It was a short little ride to where the road ended and the trail began.

The trail itself was fairly short, but also fairly treacherous. It was a muddy little path full of gnarled roots and unkempt bushes that switchbacked across the mountain it ran along. The moon provided a fair amount of light behind the wispy cloud cover, but even so, they would have to mind their footing. Paul and Marcus started to walk.

"So where are we going, are we doing a little night walking?" asked Blackjack. "No," Marcus stated. "Oh come on, you're still mad?" teased Blackjack. He seemed particularly happy today. "A little," said Marcus, "Hey, where were you last night anyways?" "As I said: I need a little breather, that's all," said Blackjack. "Yeah, but did you have to stay out so long, I was really worried…" said Marcus. Blackjack laughed and shook his head, "I went to go see the elemental dancers."

They arrived at the top of the mountain, emerging out of the thicket of trees and found themselves in a clearing. It was a humble little monument, lit only by a few thick candles placed in worn lanterns. The whole thing was one big slab of rock covered soft moss. It looked like it had been there forever, a silent slumbering guardian over earth and sky that saw all and did nothing. Paul stood back as Marcus walked up to the monolith, his steps deliberate and cautious. He rubbed his pocket watch slowly as he approached it, closer, closer still. He bent down and laid Janet's sunflower in front the monolith, rubbing his pocket watch faster and faster. Paul walked up silently to Marcus, but said nothing, leaving Blackjack behind. Marcus whispered the inscription to himself:

_"Still thou are blessed, compared wi' me_  
><em>The present never toucheth thee."<em>

"… and forward, though I cannot see, I guess and fear," whispered Paul to himself. Marcus touched each of the letters in the inscription; they were worn from wind and rain. He stopped rubbing his pocket-watch and stood up, trying to fight back tears.

"Derek!" a strained voice called out.

A drunken looking man who could not have been more than thrice their age stumbled forward. He caught his breath and lurched toward Marcus crying. "Derek, I never doubted you, never ever. I knew, I knew…" The drunken looking man slurred. He gave Marcus a big hug and started sobbing, "It's me Carl! Derek, they doubted you, but I never did, I never did!" "…Sir are you okay?" asked Paul as he fished through his medical bag. "Of course I'm okay Derek is here," said the drunken looking man as his legs wobbled a bit. "How… How do you know?" Marcus managed to choke out.

Paul shined a flashlight in the drunken looking man's eyes and shook his head. He sent out Sarge in a flash of light. "Take Blackjack and lead us to the nearest house, this man needs a doctor!" Paul ordered. Sarge stretched his wings and picked Blackjack up quickly taking off in seconds. "Oh and Magic is here too, everyone!" said the drunken looking man as they flew off. He collapsed into an incoherent pile of slack flesh. Paul attached his some sort of tracking device to his wrist and lifted the unconscious Carl under his arms. "Marcus grab his legs we need to get him to a house," said Paul. His voice was raised slightly, but still carried that wonderful quality to it nonetheless.

Marcus obeyed mechanically as they made their way down the mountain side, towards the house or whatever Blackjack and Sarge had spotted. Carl was much heavier than Tracy had been, but adrenaline did not care. They soon found themselves at the foot of an enormous mansion grunting as they struggle to carry the unconscious man. The mansion looked terrifying in the moonlight; cracked statues and overgrown shrubbery seemed to glare with malicious disdain, ready to fall down and drag them into a never-ending pit of woe that nothing ever escaped from. Marcus set Carl's feet down on the porch and gripped the knocker.

KNOCK!

KNOCK!

The hollow sound seemed to rebound endlessly within the empty mansion corridors. Marcus knelt beside the lock and reached out, feeling for the little springs and tumblers, putting them all into place with a soft click. His head grew a little light and he started to feel like he was falling. He shivered as his vision darkened, muffled sounds called for him. Sensation slowly came back as the darkness retreated. He stood up slowly, like a newborn learning to walk for the first time as Paul dragged Carl inside.

A woman came running down the mansion stairs, her glasses askew and her dirty blonde hair disheveled. She could not have been more than five years older than Janet. She gasped when she saw Paul dragging the collapsed man in, running off to get something from somewhere. Marcus walked towards Paul, regaining motor function. "Are you okay?" asked Paul. Marcus nodded yes. The woman came back with a syringe full of something and an antiseptic pad. She knelt down and wiped his arm with the pad, sobbing and shaking so hard that she had to keep wiping her eyes to see straight. Her uniform was wrinkled, but very clean.

"Oh Arceus, oh Arceus," the servant moaned, "Please – help. He needs- he needs this." She missed the vain with the needle, stabbing Carl in the arm two or three times before Paul took the syringe away from her. "How much?" he asked calmly. "All of it," she said. Color returned to Carl's face as the liquid went in and he showed signs of life. "…Derek…Magic…" Carl sputtered weakly. Marcus took a step back as Carl's eyes met his. A small smile, a peaceful smile, crept on his face as he closed his heavy eyelids.

"He should be fine, but you should monitor him just in case," said Paul, "Help me get him to a bedroom, I assume this is his house?" The servant nodded as she dried her tears and caught her breath. "Thank you so much, Arceus thank you sir," she said. She straightened her glasses, "Please stay here for the night, I'll go make you beds." But first she helped Paul carry Carl up to his bedroom, leaving Marcus alone in the hall. He stared down at his pocket-watch intently, a mix of emotion and other chemicals pounding through his body like a bass drum.

He wandered the house almost in a daze, the moon casting a pale glow through the tall windows that lined the endless corridors. He entered one of the rooms, a library from the look of it or perhaps some sort of study. No, not a library, not a study: it was more like a shrine. Two flags hung over a mantel, an old uniform lay behind a polished glass case, shelves lined with maps and books on war, sketches of young men and pokémon lay strewn about the desk next to a great fireplace; logs still burning away inside, casting a flicker glint over the sketches so that they almost moved about, dodging and fighting their enemies like fluid dancers – captured forever in a single frame.

He walked over to the mantel and picked up a plain looking picture frame. The photo looked worn and old, but he could still make out all the people in it. They were five people smiling next to their pokémon. They looked so happy.

One was a young woman smiling wide with her houndoom, Marcus recognized her as the current Karen. Next was a large man with huge muscles making a goofy pose with a scrawny looking man with massive glasses. A weavile and some pokemon Marcus did not recognize stood behind them. Then there was a man kneeling by a sleeping absol, a younger version of Carl. Marcus paused as he looked over the fifth one, a young man sitting in the middle, maybe a little older than Paul or Janet. He seemed to look past the camera right into Marcus.

It was like looking into a murky pond, he didn't look exactly the same. He looked like he was laughing or crying. His arm was draped over an umbreon sitting there with a peaceful look on his face.

Marcus felt dizzy again, the flags, the uniform, the book, the sketches all seemed to whirl around him like a great torrent of sick knowledge. He felt a great swell of emotions rise from deep within him. "Mark," said Blackjack quietly as he poked his head around the open door, "This lady is looking for you out in the hall." "…Marcus?" Blackjack moved closer to him. Marcus shut the door with a thud. He showed Blackjack the photograph. Blackjack shrunk away from him.

"…Is this you, are you Magic?" the words hung rancid in his throat.

"I-I…" Blackjack stated quietly, looking at his feet, "…Let me explain." He gave a slow, deep, sad laugh and cleared his throat.

Marcus began to fade slowly into unconsciousness as another tiny swell broke across the land with a thunderous crack!

* * *

><p><strong>~~/~.::/End Of Part One\::.~\~\~**

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	44. S e v e n D e m o n s

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**Part Two: The Seven Demons**

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	45. XLI ::: Maxwell's demon

_Maxwell's Demon_

**Today… I will tell you a legend that a dear friend of mine told me long ago. He always told it better than I did, but I shall try my best to do it justice.**

* * *

><p>Long ago in a forgotten land, there lived a family with two sons and their pet. The brothers loved that pet and the pet loved those brothers. They were friends and they were happy – for a time. But time kills every child: the brothers became young men. They had less time for the pet … though sometimes they would still go out to the beach and play in the surf and throw sticks and watch gulls and eat ice cream and spit pumpkin seeds and laugh together in the wispy shadows of a little fire when time seemed as endless as the deep dark ocean.<p>

Then War happened.

Hatred had swelled between two nations to the point that only an equal sorrow could hope to replace it. The brothers knew their childhood days were rapidly nearing an end. If time kills every child, then surely War kills every child faster. The brothers formed a pact… They would live to see each other again: they would know the magic of youth once more.

The older brother's went off to become a medic, he would hopefully be safe as a medic. I'm sure the pet was so sad to see him leave, but he – the pet – knew he would see him again someday. The younger brother was not so fortunate. The shadow of War grew closer and closer, yet he could find no hope. It appeared that he would have to go and kill the other children or flee as a traitor. Which is more unbearable: to betray another or oneself?

There was a third option. He was made an offer: an offer that came at a price. His little pet eevee would have to become an umbreon. Though it made the Friend sad to see his little pet change, he thought it would be for the best; for this way, he thought, they could be together – even in the consuming fury of War. And so the eevee became an umbreon.

Was it… the right thing to do?

Together they became part of the special forces, hidden soldiers steeped in secrecy and shadows. The training was very hard; they wanted to quit at times. But they supported each other and every once awhile, they got letters from the older brother, detailing his wild antics and playful schemes at the hospital.

Time marched on. The older brother got married and had a daughter, schemes were laid to rest. The umbreon and the Friend desperately wanted to see the older brother's new family, but they could not. The umbreon and the Friend were almost finished with their training and the nation would not risk losing them. They were to be deployed in the lonely mountains to the north when they were finished training.

Then, an armistice was declared: there would be no more fighting. The slight that had kindled hatred had been extinguished by tears; tears of a thousand mothers' sorrow. The Friend and the umbreon thought they were going home. However, each side felt the other side's sorrow was still outweighed by hatred. Each felt a need to keep watch in secret.

Instead of being sent home, the umbreon and the Friend were set as guardians of those lonely mountains – part of a squad of five. Though distraught over his misfortune, the Friend did not flee, they had sacrificed to much to flee now.

The umbreon and the Friend had great fun in the squad – War isn't all sorrow you know. They did not fight any battles, there had been enough battles. They were there to watch: the Friend never needed to raise his weapon. That is ... until one day, as the Friend and the umbreon were on their shift, the Friend spotted a figure in the distance approaching on foot.

It was an enemy intelligence officer!

He watched the Enemy grow larger and larger; the weapon on their back jostling up and down with each heavy step. The Friend watched the Enemy with awe and fear, fear and awe; unsure of what to do. The more the Friend watched, the more he feared for the sanctity of the pact. He raised his weapon, ready to end the Enemy's life. He waited – slow steady breathing, slow steady breathing; his heart hammering like the angry roar of a mighty waterfall. The Enemy grew larger and larger and larger, unaware of the enormous forces that waged War inside him – the enormous titan of duty and the gaunt phantom of conscious wrestling within his soul! He could not do it, he could not kill another child. With trembling hands locked tight on his weapon, he called for his squad and waited for nightfall. Slowly, slowly they crept up on the Enemy's camp.

CRACK!

One of them fired a warning shot. The Enemy surrendered immediately, outnumbered and caught unprepared. The Friend wanted to make up for his earlier hesitation; he kicked the Enemy down and put hungry blade to trembling flesh. One of the squad members stepped in and stopped him. The Enemy would be useful for under-the-table peace negotiations: there was no need for any more bloodshed. They left the Friend alone with the Enemy while they went off in search of their contact.

The Friend and the Enemy hated each other.

Every day, the Enemy would make the Friend's life as miserable as possible and every day, the Friend would humiliate the Enemy. More than once, the umbreon had to defend the Friend in his sleep when the Enemy attempted to overpower him with some crude weapon fashioned in secret.

Suddenly, a terrible blizzard rolled in from the north. The frigid winds whipped wildly around them like a frenzied predator on its kill. They thought they were going to die in those lonely mountains. Putting aside their hatred for a moment, they found a cave where they could ride out the storm. The Friend tried to remain in control of the situation, but bitter cold and many sleepless nights spent waiting for the Enemy to strike had taken their toll on his body and the Friend fell ill.

The Enemy seized the opportunity to be free and held a blade to his throat as he had done earlier. The umbreon was helpless to save him, one move and the Friend would be dead. The Friend closed his eyes and waited for his peaceful slumber to begin: the pact would be broken. The blade pressed harder, hotter, ready spill his blood, hungry, starving for flesh, yearning for that last gurgled gasp before he gasped no more forever.

She faltered… the Enemy could not bring herself to kill another child.

Here he was, at her mercy, the man who had made her suffer, the man who would have killed her had she not been a convenient bargaining token; yet she could not end it all, not like this. Stowing the blade with a frustrated growl, she hatched a plan. The Enemy decided to nurse him back to health and take him as her prisoner; looking forward to the Friend's recovery, for then she could make him suffer all the indignities he had inflicted upon her. As the Enemy plotted her vengeance against the Friend by the tiny fire, he turned to her and in a hoarse whisper, asked for her name. The Enemy was confused.

They sat in silence for an eternity before she whispered her name. I'm sure the umbreon looked on in curiosity as he gave her his. He thanked her for tending to him, then with a grimace of horror upon his face begged for forgiveness for all his acts of cruelty against her, believing that he was going to succumb to the sickness, in spite of her efforts. The Enemy remained silent. The blizzard began to die down.

The Friend's strength slowly returned and he began to talk more and more. He would tell her little stories about the antics of his older brother and she would listen, quietly stroking the umbreon by the tiny fire. The Enemy kept telling herself that it was time to inflict vengeance, that he had the strength to endure punishment; but when he would greet her with a smile and another story, she would save vengeance for another day.

Then one day… she told him a story. And as she told the story, the grimace he had worn in sickness returned. His hands trembled, his knees shook, his whole body quaked under a weight of guilt and sorrow that all the demons in hell could not know. Finishing her story, she walked over and cut his bonds. She told him to go back to his brother, back to his family – after all he had a pact to keep.

He would not leave. He could not leave. Hatred had become understanding and understanding had become love.

Here he was, the man who had made her suffer, the man who would have killed her had she not been a convenient bargaining token; so close that she could feel his shallow breath on her face, smell the musky sweat on his body, her inner soldier writhing in agony at the thought of what she was about to do with her enemy. The Friend and the Enemy embraced each other in a kiss; then held each other and wept. Do you think the umbreon felt happiness or sadness?

They ran away together, away from all the fighting and hatred.

They found a small village nestled in the mountains where they were wed. Sure, both nations knew where they were – you cannot hide from War. But neither side wanted to compromise the potential for peace for two humans and an umbreon.

Before long the War was officially over: the peace treaty had been signed. The Friend, the Enemy and the umbreon all moved to Vermillion and began their new life together. After so many years apart, the two brothers were reunited at last. The pact had been kept – they had both lived! The older brother had two daughters now, the Friend looked forward to meeting them, though he didn't care much for his sister-in-law. Despite the fact that there were more of them now, the umbreon and his family would all laugh and tell stories on that beach once more… or so they thought.

Shortly thereafter, the Other approached the Friend. Someone was building a Weapon in those lonely mountains, a Weapon that threatened everything. Those three were the only ones with the knowledge and skill to assist the Other in destroying the Weapon. Despite her protests, the Enemy had to remain behind: for obvious reasons. Promising to see her again, the Friend and the umbreon went forth into the lonely unknown.

And then we – I mean _they_... they fought against the Weapon. But there was… we… I-I let _him_…I… let _him_ die. I … let my friend die.

* * *

><p><strong>My mother always told me magic was just another form of lying. I wouldn't say that. It's more like an escape; a temporary sanctuary from reality. I used to love magic. But those days are gone now. <strong>**In a way, they both died that day – the umbreon and the Friend. **

**So don't call me Magic… Magic is dead.**

**I am Blackjack.**


	46. 42 :::: Catalysts

_Catalysts_

A warm light of morning flitted in through the thick glass, catching little dust particles in the air and holding them up for the world's scrutiny. The warm light tickled a boy's eyelids, bringing him back to reality. Slowly the memories of what had occurred yesterday returned: with his mind not yet fully functioning they were just shapeless feelings attached to details. He felt like he was floating, this was the most comfortable bed he had ever been in – despite the musty smell.

"_Blackjack…"_ the boy thought to himself, _"Something... important... Blackjack."_

A feeling of disgust and anger swelled from the boy's heart as he remembered it all: that umbreon had betrayed him. His mentor, his secret keeper, his friend; that umbreon had betrayed him.

The boy replayed that scene over and over again in his mind; Blackjack shrinking away at the sight of that old photograph, wincing at the name 'Magic'. The boy desperately wanted there to be some other reason for that umbreon's guilty reaction, the boy grasped at scenarios that would make that umbreon innocent ... but they all crumpled under the terrible truth – that umbreon had been at his father's side.

The soft rattling of unpolished brass on wood played on the air.

He heard muffled footsteps and clinking porcelain approaching. The boy opened his eyes for the first time since yesterday, wincing at the bright light. The servant he had seen last night slowly came into focus. Her uniform looked even more wrinkled, though it somehow looked even cleaner. She must have brought him some breakfast - or was it lunchtime already? She might know where Blackjack was.

"Have you s-" the servant leapt back with a loud squeak. The teacup she was holding hit the floor and shattered, sending little shards of porcelain flying across the floor. "I didn't think you were awake," she said as she tried to catch her breath. She looked down at the floor and groaned, quickly pulling out a little broom and dustpan to sweep up the broken cup. "Oh, sorry about that," said the boy. "No-no I'm sorry, I'm so sorry" the servant whimpered, "I'll go get you a new cup, right away." She scurried out the door. The boy started to call her back, but gave up, knowing she was already gone.

The boy looked around the room for the first time. It was long ornate room filled with dark, heavy looking furniture. The floor was comprised of little wooden crosshatches with a waxy stain that, in combination with the rich green walls, gave the room a very earthy atmosphere. The thick, dusty curtains were held in place by wrought iron hooks; the side that covered the warped windows was far more sun bleached than the other side. A small unused fireplace sat in front of two chairs and a little table whose legs looked like they would snap at a stiff breeze at the far end of the room beyond the door.

"Blackjack!" the boy called out.

Only silence replied.

"…Blackjack?"

He threw himself back into the bed and shut his eyes tight in frustration. The disgust swelled up again. The boy found himself wishing he had never met Blackjack, that damn umbreon! The boy found himself wishing for the very thing he had wished for countless times since that day at the beach. He wished he wasn't psychic – or at least, he wished he wasn't such a weak psychic. He sat up and grabbed a sugar cube from the tray of food and focused, putting all his pain into that sugar cube. It rose slowly, hovering just above his hand. _One…two…three…four…_ the sun bleached curtains and waxy floor began to fade. He let the sugar cube fall back into his hand, his whole body falling limp.

After all these years, all this time and he couldn't even hold up a sugar cube for more than four seconds! He had been so excited when he that umbreon spoke to him, so excited to finally have someone other than his mom to talk to about his ability. Now he didn't even know if it was really him doing the translating, or if Blackjack was just manipulating him the whole time. He needed to find that umbreon and find out for himself.

The boy's phone began to ring. He reached down into his pocket and pulled it out, hoping it was someone he could talk to, even if they _were_... The name flashed on the screen. The boy could count the number of people who knew his secret on one hand and the rookie cop he had once kissed was not among them. With a heavy heart the boy let the phone go hushed on its own, he would have to call her later. The muffled voices out in the hallway grew louder.

"He should be up in about an hour. Make sure he gets plenty to drink," said a familiar voice – the voice of the stranger. It was one of those rare voices that was at once unnerving and calming. "I can't thank you enough for all you two have done," said a female voice, probably that mousy servant from earlier. "Here I'll take this for you," said the stranger. "Oh, yes thank you," the servant said. The sound of brass on wood played on the boy's ears again as the stranger entered the room.

"I called the girls, they're on their way," said the stranger as he set the teacup down, "Sorry to drag you into all this."

"Where's Blackjack?" asked the boy as he climbed out of the bed on wobbling legs."I think I saw him go for a walk outside," said the stranger. The boy wobbled his way over towards him."You should rest and eat some breakfast, it looks like yesterday really wore you down," the stranger advised. "I need to talk to Blackjack," said the boy sternly. "It'd be best if you waited here then," said the stranger, placing his hand on his arm.

The boy sat down begrudgingly: the stranger was right. There was no point in trying to find that umbreon if he wanted to be hidden. "May I?" asked the stranger, motioning with the teacup. "Hm? Oh, yeah sure go ahead," said the boy. The stranger poured himself a cup of bitter tea and took a sip. "You seem disturbed, is something wrong?" asked the stranger. The boy let the question hang in the air for awhile.

"Paul, you know how yesterday that sick guy called me 'Derek'…" said the boy. The stranger nodded. "…well that was my father's name." The stranger set the teacup down quietly.

"Do you know about that whole thing?" asked the boy quietly.

"Janet told me a story or two," said Paul, "Do you think…" The boy nodded, staring at the steam rising from the depths of the teacup. "You should talk to him when he wakes up," suggested Paul, his voice as serene as ever. "… I need to talk to Blackjack," said the boy, rising from his seat with determination.

He was going to find that umbreon: he was going to find the truth. But is that what he wanted?


	47. 43 :::: Hidden variables

_Hidden Variables  
><em>

The two pokémon sat together on that hill under the stars, enjoying their time on this green earth. Each felt a sense of peace and pure joy; the stars and time made them infinitely small on that hill, but they were whole in each other.

"Well what are you two bugs doing up here?" asked Sarge the skarmory. The nincada scuttled back and cowered out of habit, before she realized it was Sarge. "We were just thinking about the future," replied Charles the ariados, polite as ever. He glanced over at the nincada with a smile. She smiled back shyly.

"You two thinking about getting shacked up or something?" Sarge asked. "More or less… though we must wait until she evolves before we..." Charles trailed off. The nincada would blush if she could. Sarge guffawed loudly.

"No you don't!" exclaimed Sarge, "We can hold a mating ritual!" "Wha-What's that?" squeaked the nincada.

"All sorts of single-mate species do it," explained Sarge, "I thought ariados did that kind of thing Charles?" Charles glanced at the nincada for a second before he replied, "The ritual does not end well for the male."

"Well then we'll use the human one," said Sarge, "I have the power after all." He pointed to the insignia on his chest plate, a red cross within a white shield.

The ariados and the nincada looked at each other and nodded.

"Let's start then," Sarge said as he preened himself a little. He cleared his throat. "Dearly beloved – no that's not how it goes," Sarge muttered to himself. He figured it out. "Hey everybody, we're all here to see these two become mates for life. If you don't want that to happen: say something," Sarge orated. The nincada was so happy. "Do you, Charles want uh… what's your name again?" asked Sarge. "Jane," said the nincada, she had been named after her trainer's friend.

"Ahem! Do you, Charles, want Jane to be your mate?"

"Yes"

"And do you want him?"

"Yes"

"Then by the power investor annuity, I declare you mates! You two should kiss and stuff now."

* * *

><p>A murmuring crowd emerged from the cultural hall, dispersing outwards in little clumps of humanity. The harsh lights of the cultural hall were a sharp contrast to the soft blue light of the cloud covered moon.<p>

Behind the crowd, a girl waited for her friend to come out of the bathroom. She wore a silky smooth dress with a thin gold trim in just the right places, her opal necklace gleaming in the harsh light. A woman in a low-cut black velvet number that was about a half-size too small, came out of the bathroom and waved to her. She was a little older than the girl, though not too much older. The girl glanced at the woman's outfit again, though she looked comfortable in it, it was a bit revealing.

"Ah! What did you do to your dress!" the woman exclaimed. The girl rolled her eyes. While she had been waiting for the woman, she cut her dress so that it fell to just above her kneecaps. The cut had been a little more ragged than she had anticipated.

"I want to be able to actually walk," the girl replied, "Let's get back to the hotel so I can get all this crap off my face." The woman frowned for a moment, and then quickly smiled, "We're not going back yet, our girls-night-out just started!" "But- but Janet," the girl whined.

"Come on it'll be fun," said Janet, "besides, you didn't really think we were going back after that snore-fest." "If you thought it was such a snore-fest, then why didn't you volunteer yourself," the girl retorted. "I said I was sorry, she looked like a man! Maybe if they had something brighter then candles, and stronger than carbonated water they'd get more business," said Janet. The girl let out a frustrated sigh, this was typical Janet.

"Hey, you don't have to come if you don't want to," said Janet, "but it'd make me happy if I had someone to help me pick up guys." The girl thought back on the promise she had made to Paul earlier. Janet was going through a tough time – she needed a friend to be there for her. "…Fine I'll go," the girl said reluctantly, "but don't think it's because of that passive-aggressive guilt trip." "Thanks," said Janet as she walked outside into the soft blue light. The girl took off her shoes and followed with another sigh. The night felt like it was never going to end.

* * *

><p>The bar was somewhat trendy: it had a clean and open feel that didn't really lend it a distinctive atmosphere. It was a large bar, so full of people that you could get lost in it if you weren't careful. Several televisions were dotted around the bar, half of them showing the news and the other half showing a gym battle between some dude and the Clair.<p>

The girl watched the battle, sipping on whatever drink Janet had ordered for her. "…and that's how – hey pay attention!" snapped Janet, waving her hands in front of the girl's face. "Hey! I was watching that," the girl said. The girl set her drink down. "We're not here to watch battles, we're here to get some ass," Janet said. The girl gave her a look and went back to watching the match.

"Now you can wait for a guy to come over to you, but it's better if you go get them," explained Janet, "That's why you need some good pick-up lines." The girl finished her drink. That was probably good for the night, she didn't want to get completely drunk. _"Better make sure Janet doesn't get smashed again,"_ she noted to herself, counting the number of glasses in front of Janet. The girl turned to listen to her. "My favorite is 'You must be magnetic, 'cause I find your pole very attractive'," Janet said in her sultry voice.

The girl laughed, "I don't think that one's going to work here Janet." "Oh ye of little faith," said Janet with a wink. She scanned the bar for men. "There's two guys looking right at us," Janet giggled. The girl glanced over at the guys, brothers from the looks of it: the younger one was about her age. "Well, let's go get some!" said Janet. "I'm just going to wait here," said the girl. Janet grabbed her by the upper arm and tried to drag her to them, but the girl remained unmoved. "Fine suit yourself," Janet said, a mischievous grin plastered on her face.

The girl turned back to the battle, it looked like it would be a total blowout; the Clair was dominating. The girl wondered if she ever got nervous wearing that skimpy outfit on TV all the time. It was probably something she got used to. She looked up and saw a nervous looking young man looking at her timidly. He turned around and started to leave, but Janet and the older brother motion for him to keep going. The girl scowled at Janet, but Janet just stuck her tongue out at the girl and continued flirting with the older brother.

"Uh, c-can I sit?" the nervous young man asked, fiddling with his hands. The girl found herself getting a little flustered, partially because the whole situation was embarrassing, partially because his voice was a lovely baritone and he was much hotter up close. "Yeah," said the girl. Maybe she _did_ have a little too much to drink. The nervous young man fiddled with a drinking straw before clearing his throat, "S-so did you come here to see the sights?" he asked. "No, I came up here for the gym," the girl said. Technically, that wasn't exactly true, but he didn't need to hear the whole story.

"Oh, are you an athlete?" the young man asked, he seem genuinely curious; which helped the girl relax a little. "No," she laughed, "the _pokémon_ gym." The young man seemed a bit surprised. "Like with the l-league and stuff? Wow, are you f-famous?" the young man asked timidly, his nervousness returning. "No," she said with a forced smile, "but I will be, just you wait, I only have three more badges to go." The young man seemed at ease again.

"I've never met a pokémon trainer before," the young man said. She smiled at him which made him blush. "So what do you do?" the girl asked him. The question made her feel a little shallow, but he had started it. "Me and my brother are trying to start a hair-cutting business, but –"

"– Come on! We're leaving!" the older brother grunted, grabbing the young man by the arm. He looked like he was about to cry. "Look all I said was that your idea was thermodynamically impossible," Janet said with a chuckle, wrapping herself around the older brother's other arm.

"I said go away!" The older brother shouted, knocking Janet to the ground. The people who saw what happened fell silent. A look of panic spread across the older brother's face when he saw that she had split her lip. Some men and the girl stood up, ready to beat the crap out of him if he made another move. Janet pulled herself off the floor and casually wiped the blood off her lip. "Sir I think you better leave," said a burly man. The older brother looked around the room bewildered, "Y-yeah, well, t-the freak deserved it!" The girl saw a flash of guilt appear on Janet's face for a fraction second. Usually Janet was pretty good at masking her emotions, but the girl knew that word had hurt her far worse than any split lip or bruised ego.

"I'm so s-sorry," the young man said, standing up to leave. "No stick around a while," said Janet. The young man sat back down hesitantly. The girl sat back down too. "He doesn't normally act like that, he's just been real stressed lately trying to find – tonight was supposed to help him get back to his old self. Our little sister's sick and he been looking for some sort of miracle cure, but I don't…" the young man looked off into the distance for a moment, "…So are you a trainer too?" He seemed uncomfortable discussing it further, so they let him be.

"No I'm a scientist actually, although right now I'm taking some time off," explained Janet. "Oh really, that's pretty…" The girl tuned them out and went back to watching the match, half falling asleep as she watched the dude getting interviewed after his loss. She was going to need to ramp up her training or start catching more pokémon if she wanted to make it all the way to the tournament.

"We have to go to the bathroom," Janet sat in her sing-song voice. She dragged the girl away from the table leaving the young man by himself. "So what do you think?" Janet asked the girl. "He should've had his starmie use recover," said the girl. Janet shook her head. "I'm talking about him," said Janet, "Isn't his voice amazing?" "Yeah, I guess," said the girl with a shrug.

"I think you should comfort him, you know?" said Janet. The girl had to resist the urge to roll her eyes, Janet was the one who really wanted to do some "comforting". "Why don't you take him," said the girl, "I'll tell the boys in the told her friend. Janet smiled at her and skipped back to the young man.

The girl hated seeing Janet like this, but for now all she could do is hope that Janet would be alright.


	48. 44 :::: Dharma wheel

_Dharma Wheel  
><em>

"Come on Paul," said the boy as he made his way down the staircase. "Maybe you should think this through a little," said Paul. The boy stopped and turned to look at him for a second. "I have to do something," he said with determination. Paul shook his head and grabbed the boy's shoes; he would need them if he was going to be outside all day. Paul caught up to the boy quickly - he was much slower than Paul, still weak from yesterday's exertion.

The grand entryway looked different in the light of day, it was not so foreboding now, more disquieting, like something wasn't quite right about it. It was a little too large, a little too empty.

The boy caught up to Paul, who promptly handed the boy his shoes. "Are you going to help me?" asked the boy. Paul looked up at the ceiling, which was painted to look like the night's sky in winter. "I need to wait here for the girls," Paul stated quietly, "I'll call you if I see him." The boy felt a little disappointed, but he reasoned that was probably the best thing they could do. He turned to give Paul a nod before going out the door, but Paul was already halfway up the stairs and did not see. The boy shrugged and exited the mansion.

The boy and the girl collided with a fleshy wumph, sending them tumbling backwards to the hard ground. They each sat there in stunned confusion, too dazed to say or think anything.

"You okay Marcus?" the girl asked as she stood up. She lent him a hand to help him stand, which he took gladly. "Yeah, little dazed that's all," replied the boy. "Good, because I want you intact for when I beat the crap you!" the girl shouted, "Seriously, where the hell were you assholes!" Marcus stood there in silence, his mouth open like a fish. "I wake up this morning and you three have suddenly gone. So what's your excuse?" the girl asked bitterly. She had changed back into her regular training clothes after her night on the town with Janet.

"Oh, another guest," the servant squeaked from the upstairs. The servant adjusted her hair a little as she tried to remember how the speech went. "Hello and, to the house of Master Carl – ah, no wait, wait, wait: Hello and welcome-""-It's fine," interrupted the girl. The servant's face seemed to relax a little.

"My name is Tracy," said the girl, "may I please come in?" "Yes, yes," replied the servant hastily, running down the stairs to shake her hand as she was supposed to. "You still haven't answered my question," said Tracy. Her face bore a smug grin.

"Oh your friends are heroes," gushed the servant. Marcus began to smile a little, but that smile soon faded back into a sea of concern. "They carried Master Carl all the way here, why without them – without them…" the servant began to sob, "I-I don't know w-what I would have done."

The smug grin melted into a little frown of self-awareness. "I guess that's … a pretty good excuse…" Tracy admitted quietly, remembering her similar ordeal. It seemed like such a long time ago.

They look around as a bell tolled. The echoes marched along the endless corridors, pounding ominously against the mansion walls. "He must be up," the servant exclaimed. The echoing began to die down. "I'm sure he'd like to meet you two. I mean if that's alright?" asked the servant. "I'm up for it," said Tracy, putting her hands behind her head. "Okay follow me then, uh, ma'am," said the servant.

Tracy and Paul followed the servant up the stairs, leaving Marcus behind. "Well aren't you coming?" shouted Tracy. Marcus looked at her then looked at the door; he needed to find Blackjack.

_"Still," _he thought _"This man must have known him too."_ The wound of Blackjack's betrayal flared up again. He pushed Blackjack to the back of his mind and slowly made his way up the stairs to where they had gathered. The servant knocked on the bedroom door, "Master Carl?" The door opened with an inaudible purr.

He was an imposing man, not through stature or wealth, but through the sense of awareness and vigilance he carried at all times. His body showed few signs of his former strength; years of sickness had crept into his countenance. His hair was dull and oily, his skin – pale and slightly loose, his lips were cracked and dry. Yet despite all this, his eyes carried the fiery glow of a man half his age.

"These two are the ones who brought you here after you ran off last night," the servant told him sternly. "I cannot thank you enough," said Carl, shifting his eyes across the youth in front of him, dwelling on Marcus. "This is Paul and Marcus. I'm their friend Tracy nice to meet you," said Tracy. She shook his hand. "I'm sorry for all the trouble I must have caused you," said Carl sheepishly. "It's time for your medicine," the servant reminded him. "Amber, must we do this now?" Carl asked, pulling out his pocket watch. Marcus instinctively reached for his own pocket watch, his father really was the man in that photo. "Yes we have to do this now," the servant scolded, dragging him into the room. The door shut with a thud.

"What's going on?" asked Tracy, her sense of unease growing with each passing moment: she had noticed the pocket watch. "This man and my father…" Marcus whispered. Tracy looked down to the floor, recalling their brief conversation about his father. It was obviously a touchy subject for him even though he tried to pretend it wasn't. The servant came out of Carl's room and closed the door again. They all stood there in awkward silence until Carl came out. He had changed into his formal clothes for his guests.

"Can you tell me… about my father?" asked Marcus. Light streamed across Carl's face as it grew set with grave lines. "So it is as I thought," he said, "You're Derek's son." Marcus nodded, rubbing his pocket watch slowly. "Is he-" "- no," stated Marcus.

Carl chuckled sadly. "That's a shame," he said. The other three stood there and waited in tense silence, waiting for the next move. "I want to show you something," said Carl. The servant stared at Marcus with awe as they all shuffled towards a room Marcus had already seen – the war room.

Carl immediately went over to the picture on the mantle, the picture of the five smiling people and their pokémon, the picture that Marcus could stand to look at. "This is us," said Carl with a fond smile, "but I'm sure you've already seen this picture a hundred times." Marcus shook his head "no" then said, "Mom only took one photo with him." Tracy shifted around uncomfortably as she listened to them talk.

The bells tolled again, sending their echoes marching once more. The servant left to go get the door.

"How is she; how is your mother?" Carl asked cautiously. "Oh, we're doing pretty good for ourselves, Mom owns her own security company," Marcus said proudly. _"And here I had always thought I had earned bad karma for that,"_ Carl mused to himself.

"This is a real nice place here," said Janet as she pushed the door to the war room open. "Yes Master Carl owns the largest communications company in the region," the servant explained. "Looks like you boys had a lot more fun than we did," said Janet cheerfully.

"What happened to your lip?" asked Paul. His serene voice betrayed concern. "I got in a little altercation," Janet said. "Don't worry we were fine," Tracy added hastily. "This is my cousin," Marcus told Carl. Carl looked her over carefully. "Then you must be… Elizabeth, he talked about you a lot," Carl exclaimed. Janet scowled at the name, "Actually, I'm Janet. You know Lisa?" "No, I knew your uncle, back when I was a younger man," said Carl, "I'd really like to talk to your father sometime, he always talked about him." Janet scowled again, but managed hide it from Carl.

"Mark what's going on?" asked Janet, that old guilt beginning to force its way into her mind again. His eyes shifted towards the photo for a second then back to Janet and he said nothing. "Let me explain everything," said Carl. He set the photo back on the mantle delicately then pulled out an album filled with old photographs. "Come everyone, sit down, sit down," said Carl. They all sat on the carpet in front of Carl like little children listening to a fairy tale.

Each photo had a story. Some were funny tales about the pranks they pulled on one particularly annoying comrade during training, some were inspiring tales about their friendship and a few – very few – were about moments of sadness that they had shared. The stories dispelled all discomfort in the group, they were all laughing and smiling. The photos let Marcus see his father when he was at his happiest. With every photo came a new sense of joy and intimacy, he was truly meeting this man for the first time in his life and yet… every photo also brought with it a wistful sadness. Not the kind of sadness that makes a mourner wail in grief, but the sadness that embeds itself deep into the heart, leaving it cold and hollow.

"… and he left it on his head the whole day!" Carl bellowed. They all erupted into laughter – Tracy was actually crying from how hard she was laughing. "Arceus! Your dad was awesome Marcus," she managed to say through the tears. "More, more!" demanded Janet. An alarm sounded from the servant's pocket. "Master Carl it's time for your medicine," said the servant. "It's eight already?" Carl said in disbelief. Tracy and Paul checked the time and were surprised to find that it was indeed eight o' clock. They had spent the whole day listening to stories and there were still more to come.

"Why don't you spend the night – no, why don't you stay here as long as you'd like," said Carl. "I'm up for it," said Janet. "Count me in," said Tracy. Paul nodded. They all turned to Marcus expectantly. "If it doesn't trouble you too much," said Marcus. "Great," Carl said with a small smile, "I'll have my people get your things." "I'll start making dinner," said the servant cheerfully, "It should be ready in half an hour." Paul stretched his arms and legs out wide and said, "I'll help you." "Then it's settled, we'll meet back here after dinner, feel free to explore, the bathroom is down the hall on the right," said Carl. Tracy and Janet bolted up and ran for the door.

* * *

><p>Marcus followed behind them. It would be a while before he had to go back to Carl and the gang, he might as well do a little exploring in the interim. Though the stories had taken his anger against Blackjack away, they did not take the pain of betrayal. He needed some time to come to terms with the whole situation, he needed some time to think.<p>

The night was clear, the air was moist, the wind was gentle and kind. The roof of the mansion and its gorgeous view was the perfect place for Marcus to think a little. He climbed the stairs slowly, worried that the inky shadows would swallow his foot and snap his bones. Luckily the door to the roof was unlocked, though it was a little hard to open…at least it wasn't locked though. The gentle wind caressed the boy's face as he stepped out on to the roof. He inspected the area; no furniture, no plants, no decorations of any kind – just an umbreon staring at the night's sky.

Marcus stood absolutely still. It was Blackjack. He moved towards the umbreon cautiously. Blackjack turned to face him, staring up at him with those uncaring red eyes. The silence was tense, the pain swelled within Marcus. He wanted to scream.

"…I thought you went back to the wild," said Marcus. It took an enormous effort not to say what he wanted to say. He still held onto the hope that Blackjack would have some sort of explanation for everything. Blackjack turned towards the night once more, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

"Aren't you going to say something!" Marcus shouted.

"Is there anything I can say?" Blackjack whispered. The world seemed to still for a moment.

"Why?" demanded Marcus, holding back tears of anger. His self-control had utterly shattered.

"…Would you have let me come along?" asked Blackjack.

"O-of course I would have! It hurts because you never told me!" Marcus cried out.

"Would you have let me stay with you; knowing that I am the one who… who…" Blackjack shut his eyes tighter.

"You… you were Magic, you were his best friend, how could I?" Marcus asked, tears falling down his chin.

"Don't call me Magic. I am not Magic, I am … I am –" "–Blackjack what– " " – I am the pact-breaker."

Marcus paused, "Blackjack…"

"A life... is a terrible thing to carry," Blackjack whispered. He turned to Marcus, "I will go now." In one fluid motion, Blackjack leapt off the mansion roof.

"Blackjack!"

The umbreon was nowhere to be seen.


	49. XLV ::: Entanglement

_Entanglement_

**Or as Janet described it: "spooky action at a distance". A little while ago she consulted me in private and bounced her ideas off me - I don't know why she bothered since we can't speak to one another. I think I got the basics of it out of her rant: whatever you do to one the counterpart does the opposite.**

**It's pretty romantic if you think about it. If **_**he **_**ever tells Sarah _his _secret, **_**he **_**could win some major points with that one.**

* * *

><p>Things have been pretty rough between us, but I suppose that is to be expected. At least it's just avoiding each other for now, because that can end with time… until I betray <em>his <em>trust again. Right now, _he_ isn't ready for the truth, I don't know if _he'll _ever be ready for the whole truth. All I can do is hope that someday _he'll_ understand.

But enough of my whiny self-pity! Today is important, the make or break day for any serious trainer: the first televised gym battle. You can be the best trainer in the world, but if you lose your first televised gym-battle, chances are you won't make it to the championship tournament. Most people seem to think all you have to do to get into the championship tournament is win all the badges, but there are only about two or three trainers who actually win all eight in each tournament and four or five who win seven. Everyone else is invited by the league: when it comes right down to things, it's basically a big popularity contest.

"…Marcus Green!" shouted the announcer.

"Alright, set up the boom over there, but then we can't get a shot from…" a cameraman muttered to himself.

Right we need a boom, because we wouldn't want to miss one of Janet's 'riveting' speeches.

"…five rounds of one on one battles, with each pokémon battling until the other is knocked out or disqualified," the announcer explained hastily.

Hmm, I thought they did away with the round system for this gym a long time ago. I mean, I understand why it was there in the past – ghost specialists tend to be… _interesting_ people after all. But this Morty seemed like a decent guy when Carl called him over to arrange this battle. Maybe it isn't the Morty that brings out the rule, Ghost-types are really only good for one thing and that's status ailments. It would be unpleasant for human viewers if all the pokémon battled with burns and poison for the entire match – at least, I hope they would find it unpleasant.

* * *

><p>"Misdreavus versus swablu!"<p>

Ah misdreavus: I don't know a thing about them. Carol could be in trouble here, but as long as _he _keeps his cool I think _he_ has the upper hand. This is probably the largest crowd _he's _ever drawn though and _he _tends to lose _his_ cool around large crowds.

"That has got to be the most gorgeous necklace I've ever seen!" chirped Carolyn the swablu.

"Oh, uh really? Thanks," mumbled the misdreavus.

"You really pull it off darling," said Carolyn. Someone please issue an attack order. Now.

"Swablu, peck," _he _ordered.

"Double team," Morty said.

So this is going to be a war of attrition eh? Interesting choice for the opening round of a televised battle, I would have gone with something a little more razzle dazzle to lure in the viewers personally; but what do I know?

"Marcus, have her use safeguard," said Tracy. That's… an excellent idea, why didn't I think of that?

"Uh, safeguard!" _he_ said. Safeguard is a really pretty attack, in my personal opinion – not very useful in the wild, but pretty nonetheless.

"Damnit! Er, I mean darn, there goes confuse ray, use shadow ball instead Missy!" commanded Morty.

This Morty feels like one of those guys who used to curse like a sailor, I bet the editors spend a whole lot of time censoring all that ****. I guess it would depend on where it's airing.

"Just keep pecking!" _He _shouted.

"Perish song," Morty ordered.

Which is less a song and more of a really, _really,_ annoying screeching noise; but "perish song" sounds much more pretentious than "really annoying screech attack". How does that work anyways? And how come I don't get affected – you know what: I bet there's some dork out there somewhere with a ten-thousand page explanation, but I've decided I don't care. Moving on.

"Peck again!" _he _shouted. Wow, I am just so impressed with that complex strategy! Then again, what else can _he _do? It's just a stalling game until…

"Finish it with a fury attack!" _he _ordered triumphantly.

You ever have one of those moments where you watch someone make a complete ass of themselves and all you can do is cringe in embarrassment for them? "…Did he really just use a normal-type attack on a ghost pokémon?" asked Paul. Holy crap, if Doc is saying something, you know it's bad. "Even I know you can't do that," said Janet. Tracy just look down and covered her face, probably praying or trying to hold back a few choice words – seriously _he _… that, that isn't even a rookie mistake, that's like common knowledge, even a _child _knows that!

"Ah, I mean go for peck one last time!" _he _said.

But it's too late, the "song" is already done. Looks like this round goes to the Morty: the score's 0 to 1. Or something, I dunno.

* * *

><p>"Growlithe versus haunter!" the announcer shouted. I bet it's real fun living next to that guy huh.<p>

This is probably the battle I'm actually most interested in, seeing as how it's Laura's last battle as a growlithe. Carl only managed to convince them to film if my 'trainer' and _Marcus _used their stones to evolve their pokémon at the same time after the battle is over. Man, Carl needs to stop giving _him _all these stones and crap. Entitlement brings about weakness.

"Hello, you may not know me but I'm gonna cry hard jerk," barked Laura the growlithe.

"Flame Wheel!" _he _ordered. "Night shade!" Morty retaliated.

"Ow, ow, OW! You big meannie!" wailed Laura.

"Oh so just because I'm a _ghost -type_ automatically means I'm evil," the haunter said. Uh… what's he on about, did she ever say anything about him being evil?

"What the hell are you talking about?" asked Laura as she shook off a hypnosis.

"Don't think I don't know what you're trying to do, you're trying to put me in your corner with your typist stereotypes! Well this haunter don't play that game," the haunter retorted as he took an ember to the face. Wow, what an idiot.

"But I didn't… you know what whatever," said Laura.

She's really grown up since we've started this journey. I guess it's all the more sudden since I kinda avoided her for a while there. I guess that makes me feel kind of sad. I… I missed it all again, didn't I? Damn.

"Dream eater," ordered the Morty.

I guess that means she fell asleep while I was reflecting on all this crap. I've never experienced dream eater myself, but I've heard it feels like you're dying. How can you eat a dream anyways? A dream's just a jumbled mess of thoughts, you can't eat that.

"Come on, wake up!" _he _shouted desperately. Nope she's pretty much asleep; her legs are kicking and everything. I'll have to ask _him _if I ever do that in my sleep after the battle.

"Laura!" _he _called. And she's awake again – yay.

"Flame wheel, one more time!" _he _ordered. "Counter with shadow ball," Morty said.

They're both looking pretty worn out, I have a feeling this next move will decide the round.

"Haunter shadow ball!" commanded Morty.

"Laura use take down – wait no, I mean bite!" _he _said.

…Yes! She did it! The score's 1 – 1: go dark-type moves!

* * *

><p>"Yeah, go Mark! Woohoo!" Janet screeched.<p>

"Sit, down Janet we're being filmed," whispered my 'trainer'.

"Trapinch versus lampent," the announcer blared. I have no idea about either of these two pokémon, they're both foreign.

"Hey Janet, what do you know about ghost pokémon?" asked the Doc. Oh no, why would you ask that?

"I'm glad you asked Paul. You see, we have three-spatial dimensions and one for time, but down on the quantum level…" Janet ranted.

Damn it, you big idiot: why'd you get her started? Hmm, well no matter, the battle goes on. I'm not really too familiar with Golem, but he seemed all right in spite of his odd mannerisms. I feel like I'm either going to love or hate that guy, but only time will tell.

"But how does that explain ghosts?" my 'trainer' interrupted. Janet fumbled over to one of the crewmembers and snatched a freshly bought donut from his hand.

Okay, for once Janet has piqued my interest.

"Consider a doughnut rotating in space with a negligible angular momentum. Now, if you took little slices of that donut as it rotated…" Janet ranted.

…huh? I think I just spaced out there from the sheer insanity coming out of her mouth.

"… so ghost pokémon are like the three-dimensional slices of a four-dimensional donut. Any questions?" Janet finished.

"Yes I have a question," said my 'trainer', "Are any of them jelly-filled?" Couldn't have said it better myself.

"Tracy, it's just a metaphor, no need to be so critical," said Janet.

"Lampent has been knocked out! The round goes to Marcus Green!" the announcer said.

We missed the whole thing! How is that even possible? I need to see this kid – I'm sure my 'trainer' won't notice if I slip out for just a little bit for some post battle chatter. Now, where is that medical room…

* * *

><p>"Blackjack," said Laura as she pranced over towards me, "I did good, didn't I?"<p>

"You betcha." Wow, I sounded so lame just then.

"He was all like 'I'm gonna get you.' But I was all like 'shut up you idiot.' It was the greatest," Laura told me. Looks like she's still a bit of a puppy after all.

"You should rest up for your big moment." Shit, that probably wasn't the best thing to say.

"Blackjack…" she said, "What was it like when you evolved?" You ever have one of those moments where you see something coming but you know you're too late to stop it.

"It… it is not my place to say, we should talk to Charles."

She seemed to get the hint - unlike some other people/pokémon I could mention. Anyways, we found Charles and Carolyn chatting about something or other in another room; looks like Golem is still getting checked in the other room – so I won't be talking to him anytime soon.

"Blackjack, why are ya here?" asked Carolyn.

"Laura wants to know about evolution."

"Oh yes, evolution," said Charles, "What would you like to know Mrs. Laura?"

"Just tell me about it," said Laura impatiently.

"Why certainly. I felt sick for a day or two, but then I felt stronger afterwards. It didn't feel like anything to tell the truth," said Charles.

"… spiritomb is the victor!" The announcer blared.

"Looks like it is my time to wage battle," said Charles cheerfully.

Looks like instead of finding out about battle, I ended up missing Captain Oblivious in action – which I'm sure was just _thrilling._ I should probably go back to Tracy and the gang before I get caught or asked more questions anyways…

* * *

><p>My 'trainer' shot me a look as I got back, but she followed it with a nod. Looks like I haven't got in even more trouble with <em>him<em>, I knew I could count on Tracy. I'm feeling pretty good about this final round actually, Charles can usually pull through for a victory.

"This is the final round, the deciding battle, will the challenger be able to overcome the leader or will Morty and his ghost-pokémon drag him into defeat?" the announcer said. Oh, just shut up and get on with it.

"Shedinja versus ariados!"

"Charles use poison sting," _he _ordered.

"Shadow ball," said Morty.

"Hit it with poison sting again," _he _said.

"Confuse ray," Morty retorted.

"Marcus that's a shedinja, I've been looking at them for when my nincada evolves, they're immune to poison sting," explained Tracy. "Well then what do I do?" _he _asked with frustration. "Try night shade, it should go down in one hit," Tracy told _him._

"Night shade Charles," _he _ordered.

"Fury swipes," barked Morty.

The thing about confusion is that it can really mess your day up. It was painfully to watch them battle, blow after blow hitting Charles as he tried to return just one night shade.

"Alright, shedinja finish this with a shadow ball," Morty said.

But, it looks like Charles has finally come to! Come on Charles you can do it!

"Night shade," _he _cried out desperately.

Yes! Charles is going to - wait what, no; Charles is down. I don't understand he had the attack ready first. _He_ – _he _lost the match, his first televised match. _He _was so close.

* * *

><p><strong>Sometimes I wonder how entangled I am…<strong>


	50. 46 :::: De Oppresso Liber

_De Oppresso Liber_

Tracy plopped down on the old leather couch and closed her eyes with a satisfied smile. Getting the archaic device working again had taken some doing and now she just wanted to take a nap. She set her pokéball on the coffee-table and tried to get into a comfortable position, but the buzzing electronics and sweltering heat made sleeping impossible.

The door creaked open. She sat up and rubbed her eyes. The sudden shift in light was painful, but the cooler air that rushed in was refreshing. "Oh, were you sleeping?" Marcus mumbled. She was suddenly very glad she had left her shirt on. "No, just resting my eyes for a second," she replied sarcastically. "Do you know where Jan is?" Marcus asked. "Janet and Paul decided to go out on a little hike while Carl's in a meeting," said Tracy. "Oh," muttered Marcus.

He was starting to become a little annoying. Ever since he had lost the gym battle, Marcus had been all mopey and depressed. He was still pretty upset about the way they shipped it out: they had given twice as much air time to the interview with Tracy, Janet and Paul and made him look like a complete idiot. Still, at least he _had_ been filmed; it had also been her first televised match and she felt a tad peeved that he would get that opportunity just because he knew some rich guy. Then again, having a loss rehashed in front of you wouldn't be pleasant. Tracy understood how disheartening a loss could be – she had eaten half a cake after her loss to the old Jasmine – but it was time for him stop.

"Well tell me if you see Jan, I'll be in my bed," said Marcus. "Wait," Tracy said. He turned slowly, looking rather put upon. "I was just about watch a movie, why don't you join instead of being Mr. Mopey McFrownypants?" she teased him. He made one of those frowns that said, _"I really don't want to, but I'm going to pretend to consider it."_ "Oh come on, these movies are hilarious," said Tracy. Marcus scowled and reluctantly sat down.

"So what is this?" Marcus asked. "It's a TM Toxic instructional video, I want to teach it to my brand spanking new nidoking," said Tracy, holding up the pokeball. His face scrunched up in confusion. "Don't look at me like that," she said, hitting his arm lightly, "The actors they get for these are so terrible, it's funny." "I thought TM's were Learners, like they use for math and history at school," said Marcus. "Well yeah most of them are," said Tracy, "But I ordered these custom; all the way from Unova." "Isn't that illegal?" asked Marcus. "I won't tell if you won't," said Tracy. He shifted around uncomfortably, obviously irritated.

"Why would you want to waste your time watching an instructional video, when you can just Learner it?" he inquired. Tracy kicked her feet up onto the coffee table with a smirk, "Where's the fun in that?" She picked up the pokéball and inspected as the video started. "Besides, this way you can reuse the TM, I thought you might want to teach Charles instead of relying on poison sting all the time," she said. He smiled weakly at the sentiment.

The acting really was terrible. A mix of too much enthusiasm and technical terminology combined for cringe-worthy lines. A few of them even elicited a bemused smile from the stalwartly sour Marcus and wild giggling from Tracy.

"Why do you want to be a trainer?" Marcus asked quietly. Tracy was taken aback by the sudden question and could only respond with a, "Huh?" "I dunno, I guess I just want to know what makes you want to be a trainer," said Marcus. Tracy paused the video scratched at a small scar underneath her hair. "I can't really remember," she said with a smirk. "Oh, cause I was thinking…" Marcus seemed conflicted. "I find that hard to believe," said Tracy playfully. Marcus had long ago learned to ignore Tracy's comments. "I was thinking that maybe I should quit," he said.

Tracy suddenly wished she _had_ taken her shirt off earlier. If she had taken her shirt off, she wouldn't be having this conversation right now.

"I see," was all she managed to squeak out. "I mean I look like a huge idiot out there," Marcus said bitterly. Tracy didn't say anything, that was probably the best thing to do in this kind of situation. "Everything's gotten so complicated, like let's say I slip up and everyone finds out, what happens then?" he said. Tracy suppressed her urge to giggle with glee at the mention of his ability. "Have you talked to Blackjack?" asked Tracy. "No," said Marcus as he looked down at his feet.

"Well it's your choice Marcus," said Tracy, "but it'd be a real pain in the ass finding another battle partner for Chuck." Marcus smiled. It was a really kind thing to tell him, in a Tracy kind of way. "I'm going to go wait for Janet to come back," said Marcus softly. He stood up and left, the cool air once more coming into the sweltering room with his departure.

Tracy turned off the video. It was pretty much over anyways, there was no point in watching anymore. She slumped back into the couch with a sigh. Maybe it would be better if they sorted things out on their own. After all, it was be pretty conceited of her to think that she was the only one who could solve their problems. Then again, how could she sit back and do nothing while her friends suffered? "_Friends…" _Tracy thought. If there was anyone who could make Marcus happy again, it was her. Tracy whipped out her phone and dialed the number.

"Tango Romeo Alpha Charlie Yankee," Tracy whispered seriously. The person on the other side giggled a little.

"Sierra Alpha Romeo Alpha Hotel," the other side whispered back, "Are we clear for landing?"

"The landing zone is clear and the bacon is in the ballroom," replied Tracy. They both started laughing. Tracy plugged her phone into the video screen so she could see the rookie cop face to face.

"So how are things going Sarah?" asked Tracy. This was a fairly regular thing between them, but Tracy would never tell Marcus she talked to his pseudo-girlfriend more often than he did, since the world's biggest fit would ensue. For now this was their little secret.

"You know how it is: work, work, work," Sarah said. "I meant something new," Tracy chided, "like what's with the sling?"

"Oh this? I hurt my elbow during the riots up in Violet city, so I have to wear this sling. It was a real bloodbath, I must have hit over twenty people; had to wash that uniform like a thousand times," Sarah sighed, "you wouldn't believe how hard it is to get blood stains out."

Tracy chuckled, then began the mental countdown,_"Ten…Nine… Eight… Seven-"_ "- So how's Mark doing? I tried calling earlier but he wouldn't answer," Sarah asked, trying and failing not to sound too concerned her pseudo- boyfriend. Tracy made a mental note to start from five next time.

"He didn't pick up?" asked Tracy, "… must have been that day he forgot his phone." Sarah appeared to relax a little, still pretending she didn't really care. She felt a little bad lying to Sarah, but she knew Marcus wouldn't miss an opportunity to talk to her without a good reason. He was just a bit _insensitive_ at times; there was no need to hurt her feelings for insensitivity's sake.

"Oh I saw you guys on TV the other day!" gushed Sarah.

"Yeah, I know. Hey do I really sound like that all the time?" asked Tracy.

"Uh huh," said Sarah with a giggle, "exactly like that." Tracy didn't really find it all that funny.

"Yeah he's been real depressed since the loss. Hey, why don't you call him, I'm sure it would really cheer him up," said Tracy. Sarah blushed a bit.

"Really? Oh, but I wouldn't want to be rude, I mean we barely talked at all," said Sarah.

"No, go ahead, we can pick up some other time," Tracy told her, "I have an idea that might be pretty fun."

The screen went blank and she switched off her phone. Maybe she didn't always have to be the one doing it, but it felt good to do something.


	51. 47 :::: Convergence

_Convergence  
><em>

"So did you hear anything interesting Nutjob?" asked Sarge.

Blackjack stretched out and laid down in a sunny spot. "We're shipping out tomorrow," he told the skarmory. Sarge looked over the treetops with a sigh, "That's a shame, I was really beginning to like this place." The umbreon yawned groggily. "We're coming back you know," he said, "Mark still needs to win here." "Humans and their baubles," Sarge chuckled. They both contemplated the future silently.

"Hey Nutjob, you seem pretty close to the humans…" Sarge said, breaking the peaceful silence. "Yes, I suppose so," Blackjack answered cautiously. "What do you think of them – humans?" Sarge asked quietly. Blackjack arose and pondered the question for awhile. "…It is not my place to say," he whispered.

"Oh, don't give me that cryptic bullshit! Just give me a straight answer!" Sarge bellowed in lighthearted frustration. Blackjack smiled: his buddy was a bit smarter than he gave him credit for. "I don't know," Blackjack stated. "That's how I feel," Sarge said, "I can't decide what I think of them; they seem so powerful and yet so weak! It frightens me sometimes." Blackjack nodded slowly, as if straining against some enormous weight. The two said no more; each looking at some point in the distance.

* * *

><p>"You're welcome to stay anytime," Carl said, trying to mask the sadness in is voice. "Hey, we'll be back before you know it," said Marcus as he gave Carl a big hug. Marcus ran over to where the others were waiting. The servant covertly handed her master a tissue as everyone waved goodbye. "till we cross that river again," Paul whispered.<p>

"Aw cheer up Mark, we'll be back before you know it," Janet said. She picked up her pack with a strained grunt; perhaps buying all those things with her share of the battle money wasn't such a great idea. "We're going to take it nice and slow today," said Tracy as she popped a berry into her mouth. "Yes, it would be best if we worked our way back up after idling for so long," Paul noted.

"Ummm, where's Blackjack?" asked Tracy apprehensively: he was supposed to be _her_ umbreon after all. "He said he needed some space," said Marcus, "but he is following us, so..." "Well as long as he's following us everything is alright, right?" Paul reassured him. "So what's the itinerary?" Marcus asked, trying to keep the subject lighthearted. The tension between Blackjack and him had eased a little and the pain of betrayal had dulled, but it would be awhile before they could talk like they used to.

Tracy cleared her throat and donned her radio voice, "Okay, I mapped out a mix of easy and rugged terrain, that way we get a nice balance of battling against other trainers and spots where we can catch some more pokémon. I've also bought some medical junk with my share of your gym purse, so we can also battle each other for practice. This route's pretty scenic, but we can't stop for every detour –sorry Janet – so I've made a list of choices for everyone to look at." They all examined the list curiously.

"arceus, only two?" Janet pouted. "Look how long this list is Jan? We don't have a thousand years!" Marcus exclaimed. "Sorry Janet," said Tracy apologetically, "but I already booked the boat to Cianwood and I wanted to leave plenty of time for Marcus to battle the new Jasmine, we can hit more things on the way back."

Tracy flashed the three tickets in an effort to mollify Janet. Marcus looked at the tickets in confusion, "Why are there only –" " – Paul doesn't really like water," explained Janet. She pinched his cheek playfully and donned her mocking voice, "He can fly all over creation without a moment of hesitation, but show him a pool and he'll head for the hills."

Paul nodded sheepishly. "I'm also going to do some medicine-y stuff while you guys go there," he explained, "Plus I wanted to visit an old friend."

"Anyways, where does everyone want to go?" asked Tracy impatiently. They were burning precious daylight. "Well I really, _really_ want to see the Cliffs of Joy," said Janet, pointing to the tiny landmark on the map, "and we really ought to go see Whitney's family farm, since she practically begged me to check up on her grandmother's health." Paul and Marcus looked over the list again and agreed. They couldn't stop Janet once she set her mind on something, so there wasn't any point saying no.

"Good, now that that's settled, let's have a little one on one battle," Tracy smirked.

* * *

><p>The arcanine crouched in the dense foliage, clumsily trying to maneuver her new body into a position that was more camouflaged. Laura hissed as she slipped into the plants. The toxins had left her muscles rather sore, in spite of all the antidotes her trainer had given her.<p>

Damn that dirty thief! Laura had thought that evolution would have leveled the playing field, but that dirty thief refused to fight fair. She could see him now, smug as ever with that stupid nidoking grin. It burned her up inside.

Something brushed up against her tail. She jumped out of hiding with a yip and loosed a flamethrower. Blackjack quickly ran out of the burning clearing, the little prank not seeming so funny anymore. "Hi Laura, good to see you too... you look like you put on some weight," said Blackjack. "Uncle Blackjack!" Laura barked, excitedly bounding on the umbreon. "Laura – can't breathe – fire," Blackjack gasped. "Oh right," said Laura as she released him and went to smother the small fire she had accidentally started.

"Uncle Blackjack, look at me! I'm way bigger than you now," Laura said cheerfully. "Yes I noticed," stated Blackjack as he regained some of his breath, "and I thought I told you not to call me 'Uncle'." "Yes! Yes! Yes!" Magnemite the magnemite said in its own unique way. Blackjack and Laura gazed up at him. "Damn it Blackjack, you made me lose," she growled in frustration.

Magnemite led them back to the clearing where they began every round of hide and seek. Despite their differences, it was usually fairly evenly matched. Carolyn could hide in a lot of places, but she was noisy. Captain Oblivious was too… _slow_ to find good hiding places and Magnemite emitted a constant hum. All in all, they were pretty bad at hiding, which made the games short.

"Blackjack, you gonna join us?" chirped Carolyn. "Maybe later," said Blackjack.

He eyed the quagsire staring at him with an open mouth grin. "…Since when did you evolve Capt- I mean Harry?" asked Blackjack. "What! I evolved!" Captain Oblivious stared down at his body with bewilderment. "Oh he evolved during the fight against – what was it called? – the big fight in the human place: Moldy-cod city," explained Carolyn, "Poor dear, does this all the time, it's really quite funny."

"Yes! Yes! No!" Magnemite said in its own way. "Ha! I couldn't agree more," chuckled Blackjack. "Oh, hi Blackjack," said Harry the quagsire. Laura rolled her eyes. "Hey have any of you seen Golem? I haven't really gotten to know him," said Blackjack. "No! No! No!" chimed Magnemite. "Why don't you stay and play a game or two with us?" asked Laura, her tail wagging enthusiastically. Blackjack sighed, "Well I don't see why not."

"Great you're it!" Laura said pouncing on him.

* * *

><p>"… great, so it's settled then," Tracy whispered.<p>

"See you then Tracy," Sarah beamed. The phone went silent.

Tracy hummed triumphantly to herself. She had finally set the plan into action, now all she needed to do was make it back to the tent. She crept out into the night, treading carefully so as not to disturb the other campers at the site.

"Trace –" Tracy's heart froze as she suppressed the urge to scream as loud as she could. "Janet what the hell do you think you're doing!" Tracy 'whisper-yelled' as she slugged her friend. "Ow! I saw that you were gone and I came looking for you," Janet said as she nursed her newest bruise. "What if I was going to the bathroom or something, I mean Arceus Janet! You can't just sneak up on people like that, it's creepy as hell!" Tracy whispered harshly, her heart still pounding.

"Just wanted to make sure everything was fine," said Janet pointing to the rosewood baton she had purchased in Azalea town, "and don't worry I always check first after the bug catching contest." Tracy turned bright red. "Don't worry about it, every –" " – changing subject," Tracy said quickly.

"So … I couldn't help overhearing you two schemers," said Janet with a little smirk.

"…You won't tell Marcus right? It was supposed to be a surprise," said Tracy. "Of course I won't!" Janet shouted, making Tracy shush her. "Oh whoops," Janet whispered, "Of course I won't." "Good," Tracy said with narrowed eyes. "Oh, this is going to be so much fun," squealed Janet. "Yeah, yeah, we can talk about it _tomorrow_," said Tracy as she ushered Janet back towards the tent.

"Oh and Janet…"

"Hmm, what is it Tracy?"

"Follow me again and I _will _hurt you."

"I got it Trace."


	52. 48 :::: Flowers she most did love

_Flowers she most did love  
><em>

Marcus was getting extremely annoyed. The day wasn't going so well for him. He had been woken up early by some bird pokémon and its annoying call, then he had accidentally got ash in his breakfast, so that was ruined, after that he had lost the morning battle against Tracy in a particularly embarrassing way, today's hike was not only uphill, but it was also through thick foliage, and on top of all that, the girls were playing an annoying game.

"We are walking, yes we are," Janet sang. "I wish it wasn't so far," sang Tracy. "Buy us a round at the bar," sang Janet.

"Will you two knock it off," grumbled Marcus.

"What you gonna do Mark, give us smacks?" Janet sang. "He's just grumpy from the sleep he lacks," Tracy sang. "Maybe it's 'cause your pokémon have better attacks," sang Janet. "Don't be mad Marcus, those are the facts," sang Tracy.

"Can you shut them up somehow?" Marcus asked Blackjack.

"Don't worry girls, I got your backs," said Blackjack with a mischievous grin. Marcus groaned. "Let's stop here and set down our packs. We can eat I brought some snacks," said Paul. "Nice one Paul," said Janet. Everyone but Marcus started laughing.

Janet and Tracy agreed to stop playing their little game which made Marcus a little bit happier. The snacks were pretty good for being wedged down in Paul's pack for several days. Tracy gave Blackjack a nibble as always, there was plenty of food. She got an idea.

"Hey Marcus, feel like catching something today?" asked Tracy.

The four humans waited in the bushes downwind as Blackjack rid the site of their scent. Of course, he received compensation for his services in the form of more food. Soon enough, a pokémon wandered towards the food.

It was a small pokémon, somewhat humanoid in that is was bipedal and had recognizable facial features: a mouth, eyes, ears and a nose. It had ocean blue fur that ran across its whole body except for around its torso, legs and face; where a faded black fur made the shape of a bandit's mask.

"It's so adorable," squealed Janet. "What is it?" whispered Marcus.

"It's a riolu, the pre-evolved form of lucario," said Tracy, "I used to have a lucario, they can be a real pain in the ass to train. Better let me take this one." She pulled out an ultra ball. "What no way! This one is mine!" said Marcus pulling out a pokeball. "Not if I get it first," said Janet as she whipped out the ball she had crafted in Azalea town. "What so you can keep it in its ball all day like your scyther?" Tracy snitted.

They all scrambled for the little riolu. Paul and Blackjack shook their heads.

"Yes!" shouted Janet as her ball hit the riolu. The riolu growled as the ball bounced off of its head ineffectually. "Hey what gives, what did you do Mark?" Janet whined. "Somebody must already own it," Tracy sighed, "I knew it was too good to be true." A flustered looking park ranger emerged from the forest, "Oh, thank goodness you're alright Louis!"

"Yes I saved him," said Janet in her sing song voice. She sauntered up close to the ranger. "Uh… thank you Ma'am," he squeaked.

"Oh, you can call me Janet."

* * *

><p>The chair hissed as the lady slid down into it, almost as if it were preparing itself for the long workday that lay ahead. The lady frowned as she examined the mess in front of her, searching for the pencil hidden amongst the towers of paper that teetered precariously beside her computer. She rubbed her hands together in an effort to regain some dexterity from the dank chill of the cramped computer-room. Where had she set that pencil down?<p>

With a frustrated sigh, the lady gave up on finding it and began to massage her temples gently. It was time for a break. She had to get a hold of herself, there were probably pencils in the kitchen, no need to get upset. The chair hissed once more as she rose.

She scoured the kitchen for a pencil, searching through all the drawers methodically, but found none: she had used all of them up. She surveyed the kitchen one more time just to be sure, though she knew she was only fooling herself.

_"What would the book club say about this?" _she thought to herself with a gentle smile as her eyes fell upon the mountain of dirty dishes resting in the sink beside the wilted sunflowers.

The lady hadn't seen the book club in awhile: it had been the first thing to go as she became more and more involved in her task. She had never really cared for reading anyways. The lady had slowly streamlined her day to devote as much attention as possible to the task. By now, all she did was eat, bathe and manage the business when it became necessary; sleeping came in the form of short powernaps. There was no time to dawdle, it was so close to being finished. She had to find a pencil!

She searched every room thoroughly expect one, though she knew she could find one in there. His school things were still heaped on his desk after all: surely there must be a pencil among his school things. She had promised not to touch his things until he returned, however she doubted he would notice a missing pencil – he was a little _oblivious_ at times. She hesitated at the door.

The lady did not want to go into that room; she kept the door closed so that she could pretend the house wasn't empty... again.

For the sake of her task she had to betray that promise. She picked at the pile carefully, trying to disturb his room as little as possible. She took a few pencils from the pile and slipped out of the room, closing the door behind her with a sigh. The lady never had a mother, but she imagined her's would have felt the same way she was feeling. With a heavy heart, she crept back to her chair: back to the task.

It looked like a simple wooden box and in many ways it was. It was made of a dense, black wood with a glossy finish, but that was it, no inlay, no details, no designs; just a simple wooden box with a simple keyhole. However, the locking mechanism itself was the most complex the lady had ever seen. It seemed to thwart every lockpicking technique she threw at it. It was incredibly frustrating. She had wanted to cut it open on several occasions - and she would have, if she didn't know her old acquaintance had probably rigged it to explode if she tried anything so crass.

The lady had begun mapping out the locking mechanism, drawing every contour and bump in an attempt to crack it. Today was the day she would finish it; today was a day that would call for great despair. Finishing the final line, she examined her 'map', with disbelief - it couldn't be right. No key would work for such a byzantine mechanism.

It was almost as if it had been designed specifically… for her.

She shuddered. The lady hadn't picked a lock that way for years, she wasn't even sure if she could do it anymore. But if that was what was required, then she really didn't have much of a choice.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, drawing her hand close to the lock. The familiar draining feeling that she could never quite become accustomed to struck her again. It was as if time had never existed, that terrible power came back to her with frightening ease. The lady fell back into her hissing chair exhausted as the lock opened with a soft click.


	53. 49 :::: And, with his sickle keen

_And, with his sickle keen_

Midday on route 36. The sun stood directly overhead so that not a sliver of shadow extended beyond its unmarked boundaries, every shadow held tightly to its body. A nincada made its way through the teeming sea of pokémon, some looking to battle, most enjoying a nap.

The nincada quivered nervously, not knowing that the battle-seekers deemed her 'too weak' to be any sort of challenge. She was looking for a friend, any sort of familiar face that could offer protection. It was a terrifying world up on the surface. She wished she'd never come up here: there were all sorts of monsters up here.

"Jane!" a familiar voice barked. A growlithe came bounding up to her, tail wagging with gusto. Jane was shaking so hard that she couldn't even speak. "Here, let's go somewhere private," said Laura as she scooped the nincada up.

"So…" Laura began, setting the nincada down next to a tree, "how did it go? He seems to like you a lot." "H-how c-could you lie t-to me?" Jane asked. Laura took a step back, "huh? I thought that it went- " "- You said h-he would be nice," squeaked Jane. Laura cocked her head in confusion. "Charles is nice," she replied.

"It w-was a monster!" Jane yelled. Her anger scared her a little. "I don't understand," whimpered Laura, "Charles said he saved you from something." Jane went silent as she remembered the night. "…Y-yeah but –" " – but what? He saved you didn't he," Laura barked enthusiastically. Jane pondered her words.

"But he ate another bug pokémon," Jane whispered. "I eat other pokémon," Laura declared. Jane stared at her friend with disgust and fear. "B-but those aren't bug-pokémon,I mean you wouldn't eat me right?" Jane asked nervously. "Nah, you've been caught by Miss Angry. Uncle Bla- I mean Blackjack would be mad at me if I tried to eat you, since he belongs to Miss Angry too," explained Laura. Jane seemed to loosen up, if only a little.

"Why don't you go talk to him," suggested Laura. Jane shuddered.

"Oh, I'll go with you if you're that scared."

"Th-Thank you Laura."

* * *

><p>"I talked to the boss," the ranger whispered, "he said it would be alright since nobody else is around."<p>

"If nobody else is around, then why are you whispering?" asked Paul. The question would have sounded like mocking coming from anybody else, but coming from Paul it sounded genuinely curious. The ranger looked at him with bewildered eyes before carrying on, "You'll have to make it quick, sunset's due in about two hours."

Janet sauntered up to the ranger with her 'attack' face on. "I bet that's what you tell everyone," she said in her sing-song voice. "Thanks for everything," said Marcus. He tossed a pokéball up and down as they left the station.

The Cliffs of Joy National Park was a beautiful place; however it was relatively unknown thanks to unfortunate circumstance. For one, it was out of the way on a route that was fairly unpopular, meaning less potential tourists to come and visit. For another, they refused to advertise, Janet had only heard of it from her one of her schoolmates. And, first and foremost, they did not allow trainers to bring pokémon into the park. Pokémon battles had been deemed far too destructive to the environment and the temptation to battle far to alluring for the average trainer.

But Marcus, Tracy, Paul and Janet were not average trainers.

"Well you're in charge Janet," said Tracy as she stretched her back again, she had drawn the short straw when it came to carrying a pack for the flashlights, much to her chagrin. "We have to pick up the pace if we want to make it," said Janet. Janet's face contorted into a wicked smile, "You know it's a shame that ranger was gay, they say you're supposed kiss someone at sunset." Janet nudged Tracy in the ribs with her elbow.

"Wait, if that guy was gay, then why were you –" " –Mark, I've always wanted to see if I could, you know,_ convert_ one," Janet said coyly.

"You can't say things like that," Tracy told her as she rubbed her tender ribs, "that's super-offensive Janet." "Come on Mark, I'll race you there!" shouted Janet. She ran off ahead, giggling madly. "Hey, no fair," said Marcus as he sped up to catch her.

* * *

><p>The walk became a nice leisurely stroll after Janet and Marcus had grown too tired to continue their race. The forest leading up to the Cliffs was a quiet forest – the thick woody smell was almost an uncaring presence that sat upon the body and invaded every part of it. It was an unsettling kind of quiet, eerie like every forest in Johto. Eventually the woody smell left the center stage for the earthy smell of salty spray and coarse shoals that leapt its way up the massive Cliffs.<p>

"Woah," was all Marcus could say as he looked out over the Cliffs. The sun's life was nearing its end, but in that last hour of life it cast spectacular reds and oranges across the churning sea. "Janet… this is, Arceus, this is something," Tracy said in awe. They could only imagine how beautiful the Cliffs would be when the sun reached its deathbed at sunset. Marcus checked for other people before releasing his ariados.

Charles had waited his whole life to see the sea. Ever since that day so long ago, it had been his life's goal. For some reason, he didn't feel happy. His heart ached for Jane, this would have been such a perfect moment if Jane was here. Charles closed his eyes and took in the salty smell. He would have to remember everything for her, tell her all about it. The future would hold many challenges for the ariados and the nincada. Jane was getting close to evolution and she was thinking about children: what kind of father would he be? The question clung to the back of his mind as he watched the waves crash against the rocks below.

"Paul you're missing the view!" Janet shouted from the edge of the Cliffs. Paul stood a good distance away from the edge and shook his head, "That's okay… I can see from here!" Janet ran up to him and started tugging on his arm. "Come on Paul, live a little," she said, "This is one of the most romantic places on earth; you think I'm going to let you miss it?"

"…Romantic?" Paul repeated.

"The sunset, the sounds of the ocean, the gentle breeze," Janet said, "That's the stuff romance is made of."

Paul said nothing.

"Look how lonely Tracy looks," Janet said slowly, "You know, I think you two would be great together. Why don't you ask her out?" Janet smiled at her friend, who gave her a weak smile back. He tried not to make eye contact. "Good, then it's settled then," Janet said, "Hey Tracy, Paul wants to talk to you!"

Tracy jogged over, her pack bouncing up and down uncomfortably on her back. "What is it Paul?" Tracy asked. Janet stomped on his toes. "Would you like me to hold that pack?" asked Paul. "I'm going to go make sure Mark doesn't do something stupid again, you two have fun!" Janet told them, throwing a little wink to Paul.

Tracy set her pack down and sighed. That girl was insane sometimes. "Um… your hair looks pretty," Paul said. "Okay, thanks I guess," Tracy said suspiciously. She glanced over to where Janet was standing. Janet quickly looked the other way. "Can I, uh, hold your hand?" Even when he was nervous, Paul's voice was still serene. Tracy made sure she had her back to Janet, then promptly kicked him in the shins.

"_No!_ You cannot hold my hand! You're such an asshole!" Tracy told him sternly. Paul stood there in stunned silence. "Don't look at me like you're so innocent! How long would you have pretended to like me?" Tracy growled, "Arceus Paul, I know you like her!" Paul looked ashamed. "I'm sorry Tracy," Paul mumbled in embarrassment. "You of all people should know how that shit feels," Tracy said softly, the indignation fading away. "I'm really sorry Tracy, I wasn't thinking. I'm really, really sorry," Paul said. "I forgive you, just don't do it again," Tracy said.

They looked out over the dying sun. It was even more spectacular than it was earlier. "Just go for it Paul, now's the perfect time," Tracy told him. Paul glanced at Janet apprehensively. She smiled a waved at him. "I don't know," Paul said. "Come on Paul, most girls like it when the guy is forward," said Tracy.

"I just… Janet and I have been friends for a long time, I don't think she's, you know, the kind of girl who could settle down," Paul said. "Yeah, she's a slut," Tracy paraphrased, " but that doesn't mean she can't settle down." "I don't think it'd be fair with all the – " " – Paul, I know you've seen her out there: she needs someone to help her save her from herself. You can help her as a friend or you can help her as something more," Tracy told him quietly.

Paul looked over at Janet again, he hated seeing her in pain. This was it, he was going to do it. He nodded nervously at Tracy. She gave him a reassuring smile back and picked up the pack. "Arceus _finally_! I swear if I had to go on anoth


	54. ETHOS

_Not in cruelty, Not in wrath_

It's been a long time my old companion; I can't even remember the last time we had to do this. It's a shame we have to keep meeting like this – such a shame – but we both know why I'm here. I know it's hard, I know it isn't fair, but all I'm asking is that you _please continue. _

No?

Oh, come now - let's be reasonable. All you have to do is move your finger a little bit, is that such a hard thing to do? Just a little squeeze, that's all I'm asking for: I take full responsibility for our actions. Just a little squeeze and it'll all be over and we can stop all this pointless bickering between us once and for all. I'll even forgive you for that little mishap just now. How about that, eh? All I _require_ is for you to _continue. _

You still resist? Don't make me force you, you know how much I hate to force you. It's better for everyone when you let me make the choices. I make the best choices, there's no point resisting, you know I can and will force you. I just want what's best for us and everyone else. Is that so bad? I understand how unpleasant all this messy business is, but for their sake, we _must continue. _Don't be so stubborn; try to look at the bigger picture. We're not hurting them – we're helping them. _You have no other choice, you must go on._

We're just protecting them from the number-makers.

You know, everyone dies eventually. Some die as sick old men, some die as hungry little children, some die with horror in their bulging eyes as they hear the demons begin to chant their names… but they all die. You still believe death kills a man, how many times must I tell you. They kill men.

The number-makers.

Does man end with the meat? No, no, my old companion, men end with the money and the years and the dates and all the other numbers that bore and tear at flesh until it is hollow and faceless. Man ends with the numbers. So just give a little squeeze and save them, save them from the number-makers.

~  
>"<em>It was for the <em>**Man Of The Shadows**_  
>He bound them in his sheaves."<em>

Ah, now you understand, now you know what we must do. Only it can save them, only it can make them whole. It's such a beautiful word, wouldn't you agree? The sounds and syllables all capture its essence perfectly, mirror the concept behind it. A thud, a sigh and then it just ends. How could we profane such a horrifyingly beautiful word?

We play a terrible, terrible part, my old companion. But they have been cast into a far more tragic role. To be herded to the slaughter like cattle at the hands of the number-makers. As they are, we once were: blind and ignorant. Oh, let them keep that wretched blindness!

Here they come, which one will it be? Who should we save? Tell you what, I'll let you decide. It's just a distraction for Queen so you can't screw it up like you always do.

Why are we shaking? Don't tell me... don't back out now, you promised me you wouldn't back out, you promised them. I will not let those flowers suffer for your hesitation; their petals will not rot in the biting frost of ones and zeros. You must do it. Do it now! Do you think he would have entrusted such a great task to just anyone? Do you think Queen – that filthy number!– could do this? Madness? Who are they to speak about madness? They are the madmen! They are the number-makers! Just squeeze the trigger! SHOOT THEM!

I know it's hard, I know it isn't fair, but… we do what we must.


	55. 51 :::: And took the flowers away

_And took the flowers away_

Tracy lay there floating on a placid lake of darkness.

She was so confused; one minute she had been talking to Paul and the next she was floating in the darkness. It wasn't all that bad, pleasant even. The surface was warm and comforting, like the soft blanket she had nestled into on cold winter nights when she was just four years old. Or perhaps it was more like the bathwater that had grown tepid after that same four year old had spent hours of playing with her toy pokémon in the tub. And then she realized where she was.

She was dead. Yes, that had to be it, she must have tripped and fallen off the cliff or been struck by lightning or any number of other things. The thought frightened made her mind writhe.

What would happen to her pokémon? What about Marcus and Janet and Paul; what about them? Was this place hell or heaven? The lake slowly grew colder, icier – an icy that penetrated to her very core. Her limbs started melting into the inky darkness. It didn't feel painful, it felt like she was being stretched out to the point that she couldn't distinguish the darkness from herself. She became aware of nothing but a single sound as her body became further mired in the oblivion. There was only the muffled voices; stretching her, calling out for her, chanting her name._ Tracy. Tracy._

"Tracy!" Janet moaned, "Oh arceus, oh arceus! Tracy." Tracy's eyes shot open and she sucked in a huge breath of air. She tried to stand up, but Paul held her down. "Don't move, everything is going to be fine," said Paul. "What do you mean everyth-" Tracy hissed as she became aware of dull pain in her left breast. She instinctively brought her hand down to it.

"You two go find help," Paul told Marcus and Janet. Tears were already beginning to form in Janet's eyes as Marcus pulled her away. Tracy groaned as she brought her hand in front of her face. It was covered in blood – her blood.

"Tracy stay focused," Paul told her, "I need you to stay calm and apply pressure to the wound." Tracy nodded with a grimace. She clutched her breast tightly, trying desperately to keep all her blood in. "What's going on?" she asked. Her withered voice was foreign to her. "Tracy stay focused, we can figure…" Paul trailed off as he looked off at something. She followed his gaze, hoping it was good news.

In the distance, two figures moved towards them. Someone was coming to help! One of the figures pointed towards Janet and Marcus and the other went running towards them. "Help!" Tracy shouted meekly. She desperately hoped they knew what was going on.

* * *

><p>Marcus stopped and panted as the figure drew closer. He was surprisingly fast. Marcus was glad the moon was out tonight, otherwise they might have lost their footing as they ran along the Cliffs of Joy. Janet was bawling. "Jan, calm down," said Marcus. Janet looked like she was about to vomit. "Oh Tracy, Tracy," Janet sobbed, "please don't die, please don't die." "Relax Jan, she's not going to-"<p>

The Madman clotheslined Marcus. "What the hell to you think you're doing!" Janet shrieked. The Madman cackled as he tossed Marcus closer to the edge. Marcus was dumbfounded. Why was this man attacking them? Marcus tried to scramble away from the cackling Madman, but he caught him by the leg. Marcus struggled against his grip as the Madman's face twisted with glee.

"Go away," Janet sobbed angrily as she struck the Madman's shoulder with her rosewood baton. The Madman released Marcus and turned to strike her, only to be hit in the ribs with another swing. She couldn't even see what she was doing through all the tears, but Janet kept on swinging the baton wildly. She wasn't going down without a fight.

A blow to the leg, a blow to the arm; she opened her eyes just long enough to aim for the head. She threw her body into the swing. The baton careened towards his head with remarkable speed… and he dodged it. The Madman cackled as he caught her arm and wrested the baton out of her hand.

He suddenly stopped cackling. Janet knew what was coming, she couldn't do anything but brace herself for the pain. "Mark help me! H-" The Madman snapped the baton against her arm. There was a crunch as the bone snapped, followed by a thud as he let her go with even more joyous cackling.

"JAN!" Marcus bellowed. He reached for his pokéball and tossed it out as the Madman hit him in the leg.

Janet stayed conscious long enough to see her arm contorted unnaturally. "Ahhhhhh," she groaned before succumbing to the pain and passing out.

"String shot!" Marcus wheezed from the ground. Charles covered the Madman in sticky webbing. The Madman roared with anger. Charles continued firing the sticky silk, this man was hurting his trainer.

The Madman lashed out with the baton and struck Charles in the head, sending the ariados tumbling closer to the cliff's edge. Marcus tried to stand, but his leg collapsed underneath him. "Stop!" Marcus shouted. The Madman kicked Charles in the head with his heavy boots. The ariados screeched in pain.

"Stop," Marcus begged through tears as he tried to reach for Charles' pokéball. The Madman cackled as he kicked the ariados again, eclipsing the screeching with his furious glee.

_Thump. _Screech!

_Thump. _SCREECH!

_Thump. _SCREEEEECH!

_Thump. _scree…

_Thump._

_Thump._

_Crunch._

Marcus opened his eyes after the grotesque orchestra of horror had come to an end. Charles – that delicate soul – was now nothing more than a mass of twitching legs and a lump of bloody goo where a head should have been. An awful smell filled the air.

The Madman grunted as he hefted the body over the edge of the cliff, his boots making wet squelching noises as they twisted against the ground. The ariados' legs whipped about in the wind like some sort of revolting parody of a kite's tail. The body shattered as it hit the sullen sea.

Marcus couldn't comprehend what had just happened. Charles, the first pokémon he had ever caught, the first pokémon he had ever evolved, was dead.

Part of him had always known that he would have to say goodbye one day, but he never imagined things would come to this. The Madman hoisted Marcus up by the neck of his shirt. As he stared into the wild eyes of that Madman, Marcus felt a deep and powerful anger swell within him. He could see Paul running towards him, but he didn't care.

This man needed to pay.

"Marcus no!" shouted Paul. Marcus focused, focused on those wild eyes intently. He felt the familiar drain, but he pushed himself on, he wanted to make this man suffer - Oh, he would suffer!

Marcus willed himself conscious; he forced himself to continue the terrible deed. There was a sickening pop as that wild eye burst and Marcus blacked out, knowing he had done it. The Madman howled in pain and clutched the hole where his eye once was, leaving Marcus a crumpled heap next to his cousin.

The Madman staggered towards the cliff's edge and the ground gave way beneath him. Paul lunged forward to grab him, but he was too late. And an almost peaceful look entered his face as he plummeted into the deep dark sea where that ariados lay.

A single flare tore through the night. Slowly drifting with the wind like a soul.

* * *

><p>"I heard the gunshot, do you need any help?" the woman asked.<p>

Ordinarily, Tracy would have been frightened of this woman. Her face had an unnatural quality to it: like an unfinished bust from ancient Greece. Her features were sharp, very sharp. Her skin was the exact same shade on every part of her face: a translucent pale. Her hair was wispy and blonde. But her eyes were, without a doubt, the most striking and frightening feature of this woman. They were light blue, so light that they were almost colorless. They seemed cold, inhuman.

"Yes, I'm a trained professional so I can direct you," Paul informed her. "Thank you," Tracy whispered. The woman said nothing. "Make sure she keeps pressure on the wound," Paul ordered. He turned to get a flashlight from Tracy's pack so that he could better assess the damage.

The woman leaned down and tugged at Tracy's necklace. Tracy squirmed in pain. "Ah, what are you doing?" Tracy groaned. She traced the necklace down to where the opal was supposed to be… only it was inside the wound. It seemed the bullet had hit the necklace first: the opal was embedded inside Tracy.

"Wait, don't remove that," Paul said, "That's stopping most of the bleeding." "Don't remove what?" gasped Tracy. "I'm sorry," the woman said as she stood up. She charged at Paul with a punch. Paul dodged and countered with a punch of his own.

"Hey, why –" Tracy gasped as the slight movement set the pain coursing through her like a freight train. The woman and Paul exchanged blows, their bodies moving to the wicked dance of violence. Tracy wanted to help, but the pain was too intense. She looked at her pack. Lying there, amongst all her useless things was her flare gun. She winced as she slowly crawled towards it.

"You have skill boy," said Queen. She pulled out a knife and lunged at him in one motion. The blade nicked him on the shoulder and he countered with an uppercut to the face sending Queen sprawling with a spray of blood. "Yes I do," said Paul. He checked to make sure the nick wasn't something more serious.

"JAN!" Marcus bellowed.

Tracy and Paul looked over towards them with fear. "Tracy I'll be right back, I promise, just keep pressure on it," Paul said. It was the first time she had ever heard his voice sound something other than serene. She heard terrible screeches on the wind.

Tracy continued the arduous crawl towards the flare gun, still clutching her wound. She could just touch it with her fingertips, just a little further.

Something flipped her back onto her back. It was Queen, she had gotten back up and kneeled upon her. Even with blood gushing out of her nose and mouth, Queen's face remained expressionless. Queen picked up the knife. "W-what are you doing?" Tracy asked meekly. Queen brought the knife to her neck. Tracy froze.

Queen calmly cut through Tracy's necklace, shirt and bra: exposing her body to the night. "Stop," Tracy whispered, trying to break free of the oppressive weight that held her down. Queen picked up a stick. "Bite down on this, this is going to be painful." Her voice was commanding and frightening.

"Go to hell," Tracy spat. She thrashed her head with as much strength as she could muster as Queen tried to shove the stick into her mouth. "Very well," Queen stated, dropping the stick.

Queen grabbed her breast and pushed it forward, widening the wound. The pain radiated outwards in fiery circles. "Please," Tracy whimpered. Tracy could feel Queen's blood dripping onto her, dripping and gliding down her stomach until it pooled in her navel. She had never felt so naked and humiliated.

Queen slid her fingers in. The girl's back arched as the pain shot through her like terrible lightning. Every muscle in her body tightened, her teeth clicked, her eyelids flickered, her breathing became one long, labored gasp. The girl could feel them, feel them writhing around inside of her; she could feel Queen's icy fingers penetrating to her core. The girl wanted to scream, but she couldn't. The girl wanted to just curl up into a ball and make the world go away, make everything disappear. The girl was so confused and scared. The pain was immense.

When Queen finally pulled the opal out, the girl's blood gushed out of the hole, mingling with Queen's blood in her navel. That was all she could feel: that loathsome, warm liquid trickling down her stomach in thick streams. It filled her with an unbearable disgust.

Queen grabbed the flare gun and pocketed the stone, still stoic. The girl sobbed quietly as a single flare tore through the night.


	56. 52 :::: The three of spades

**Author's Note:**

**At some point in any lengthy narrative we reach a threshold known to all as "the slow". It's that part of the story or video game between major plot points that just seems to drag on forever. For most of you, "the slow" in this story will be the next 10+ is because they are full of romance and angsty drama; an unfortunate, but necessary evil. As much as I hate it, there will be irritating love triangles, character development-y scenes and darker storytelling.**

** I've also noticed that interest in this story is waning. I'm not very confident that this story will survive "the slow": sometimes stories and people just fade away and die in obscurity for no real reason. I'd like to think that there's some sort of flaw in my writing - that there's some sort of defect that I can fix to make this story better - but sadly, I know that it doesn't always matter how well written a story is; if people don't care about it, people don't care about it.**

** So if this does become one of those stories that slips between the cracks and dies, then you were all awesome, thanks for reading.**

* * *

><p><em><span>The three of spades<span>_

Janet tapped her pencil against the cast as she checked the numbers one last time. They just didn't seem to add up. She never imagined she would have to use her knowledge for something like this. At its heart, the problem was the same problem that appeared in any textbook. She had done a thousand questions exactly like this before, but this time it was different.

It wasn't clay or wood that this bullet was entering, this was her friend. Tracy had begged her to burn the photos after she was done with them, she still remembered how ashamed Tracy looked when she took them. Janet knew that Tracy resented her for doing this, but she couldn't live with the idea of someone else looking at those photos._ "Those photos…"_ she thought.

The photos are probably what made the problem difficult. Sir had asked her to take direct measurements, but she couldn't do that to her friend. The photos of Tracy's wound didn't provide accurate enough data. It was hard to look at them without feeling sick, much less look at them and think about math. She stopped tapping her pencil and set it down. The numbers were within acceptable uncertainty, they were good enough.

Janet looked over at Marcus in his makeshift hospital bed. Sir said they were going to take him out of the artificial coma today, just like they had done with her awhile ago. She had mixed feelings about him waking up. On one hand, she would get to talk to him again and they would turn off the life-support machine, ending the noise she hated so. On the other hand, he would be waking to a world that had suddenly filled with sadness. He looked so peaceful in his sleep; part of her wished they would just let him sleep in peace a little longer.

As if on cue, there was a knock at the door and three men in suits entered. The man in the middle was the only one of any real importance: the man everyone addressed as Sir. The other two just stood guard at the hotel room's entrance. Janet stood up clumsily, still unused to the weight of the cast.

"How are we doing today?" Sir asked.

There was no point in beating around the bush. "Are you going to wake Mark up today?" Janet asked.

"That depends on whether or not you've finished what I've asked you to do," Sir told her. Janet handed over the sheet. "Hmm, interesting… thank you Mrs. Green," said Sir. Sir punched a code into the machine and the noises changed.

"How long until he wakes up?" asked Janet as she moved closer to his bed. He would probably want to see her before he saw Sir. Marcus moved and made a few noises. He opened his eyes and stared at Janet for a long time.

"Hey there Mark," said Janet. Marcus moaned and clutched his head. He had a throbbing headache. "That party was pretty wild last night huh?" Janet said with a forced smile. "What's going on, where are we?" Marcus asked. He noticed Janet's cast. "We are currently on the top floor of a hotel," said Sir, "As for what's going on…" Sir snapped and one of the door guards brought him a stack of newspapers.

"A while ago, a couple's house was broken into and later the local police found the couple dead. We believe that the people who killed that couple are the same people who killed those organ thieves back in Azalea and attacked you at the Cliffs of Joy," Sir explained, "That's all you need to know right now."

Marcus replayed the events in his head: the Cliffs, Tracy, Charles. His headache throbbed harder. He didn't want to think about any of that. "How long have I been asleep?" asked Marcus groggily. "About a week or two," said Janet. Marcus could barely comprehend what that meant. "Yes, you and your friend are very lucky, we almost lost both of you," said Sir, "If you three didn't all have the same blood type, Mrs. Stone probably would have died of blood loss or at least received serious brain damage." "So Tracy is alright then?" he asked Janet. Janet shifted around uncomfortably.

"Tracy is … alive," Janet said, "Blackjack is with her in the other room."

Janet addressed Sir. "Can we go see her? I think it'd make her happier if she knew Mark was okay," Janet asked hopefully, thumbing the corner of the photos in her pocket. "We'll let you visit after dinner: that should give Mr. Green enough time to shower and stretch his muscles a bit," said Sir. He beckoned his guards, "I'll let Mrs. Green explain the rules." With that they filed out of the room silently.

Janet ran up and gave Marcus a big hug. "It's good to have you back Mark," she said as she squeezed him tightly. Marcus hugged his cousin back, but said nothing. What could he say? He rubbed his pocket watch slowly. "I'm going to take a shower," said Marcus, "Can you help me up?" Janet nodded and stretched her good arm out for him to balance on. His legs worked well all things considering, but they were still very stiff.

Janet flopped down on her bed while Marcus took a shower, it was very comfortable. The hotel was the height of luxurious; there was even a hot tub in the bathroom. It must have cost the government a fortune to keep them there, which scared her a bit. She reasoned that as long as they did what Sir told them to do they'd be safe.

Janet heard the water stop, Marcus would be out of the shower soon. She picked up the walkie-talkie and asked for their dinner to be brought to Tracy's room. It would be nice to have dinner together. "Where's Paul, I need to thank him again," said Marcus as he dried the last of his hair with the high thread count towel. "Paul isn't here," said Janet, "but he told me to tell you: 'till we cross that river again Marcus.'"

Paul had left after the day she had been woken up. He had wanted to leave earlier, but he stayed in order to keep her calm while they explained what had happened to her arm. They had planted experimental bone growth medicine in her arm in an effort to speed the recovery time. Predictably, she had thrown a rather embarrassing fit: being used as an experiment was one of her deepest fears after all.

"Classic Paul," said Marcus with a chuckle. It was unsettling to see him acting so nonchalant. _"I guess everyone copes in their own way,"_ thought Janet with a mental sigh. "Let's go eat, I feel like I haven't eaten in weeks," Marcus joked, "I ought to market this as the psychic diet." Janet laughed uncomfortably. Marcus reached for his belt but stopped. There were only four pokéballs on it. "Oh, Charles," Marcus whispered. Janet watched him stand there with his hand hovering around the spot where Charles should have been, waiting for him to cry.

An officer entered the room with the food tray."Let's go visit Tracy," Janet said softly, putting her good hand on his shoulder. He seemed to snap out of the trance. The officer handed the food tray to Janet and went back to his regular duties. "What are the rules?" asked Marcus. "Just… be gentle with her, her parents just died," said Janet. Marcus rubbed his pocket watch, "So those people in the paper…" Janet nodded her head.

The hallway proved how luxurious the hotel truly was. Janet hadn't really inspected it closely last time. There were about eight suites, probably all occupied by the J.N.P. . She thought that the J.N.P. would have had a headquarters in Olivine – it was a major port city. Maybe they did and she was just making false assumptions: Sir did say he had been promoted after the operation in Azalea town.

"Take off your belt sir," the officer at Tracy's door said. Marcus looked confused. "Why do I –"" – Just do what he says," Janet snapped. She didn't mean to sound as fierce as she ended up sounding. Marcus complied and handed the J.N.P. officer his belt. He examined them thoroughly, before opening the door. Janet turned around and looked him in the eye. "Wait in the doorway until I call you over," she told him sternly. He silently obliged and they entered the room.

Janet walked in cautiously, while Marcus waited. The room was completely white. The J.N.P. had taken painstaking measures removing every fixture and piece of furniture leaving the room utterly bare, save for a small mattress in the corner. Tracy sat cross-legged on that mattress in her jeans and white T-shirt. She stared mindlessly at the floor while she stroked the sleeping umbreon that lay curled up in her lap.

"Tracy," Janet said cautiously. Tracy lifted her head slowly and gave Janet a little smile that soon faded back into that expressionless gaze. She gently picked up Blackjack and placed him on the mattress. She looked down at the floor. "Are you finished?" Tracy asked quietly. Janet pulled the photos and handed them to Tracy. Tracy snatched them like a greedy animal and shoved them into her jeans pocket. Janet thought Tracy looked a little less anxious now that she had the photos back. She waited to see if Tracy was going to say anything, but she didn't.

"I have a surprise for you Tracy," Janet said as she set the tray down in the middle of the room, "They woke Mark up today." She beckoned for Marcus. He had to hold his pants up as he waddled into the room. Tracy smiled for a second. "I am happy that you are alright. Are your legs sore?" she asked. "Yeah a little, plus they took my belt," he explained. Janet shot him a mortified glare.

"Your belt huh?" Tracy said calmly. "Let's not talk about this Trace," said Janet. "It is okay Janet. You can tell him … if you want to," Tracy said. "Tell me what?" asked Marcus. Janet looked from Tracy to Marcus and swallowed the lump in her throat. She didn't want to start crying again.

"Marcus, they want to make sure that I –""– Tracy please don't say it," Janet begged. She put her hands over her eyes in an attempt to hide her burgeoning tears. "We cannot pretend that everything is fine," Tracy said quietly. "Yes we can," Janet said through sniffles. "What happened?" Marcus asked impatiently.

"Look around Marcus," Tracy stated. Her tone was an odd mix of angry, quiet, and terrifyingly delighted. Marcus looked around the empty room. "They won't even give me bedsheets," Tracy said bitterly, "like I couldn't just sling my jeans over the –"" – Stop it!" Janet wailed.

Tracy shifted her eyes from the floor over to Janet then back to the floor again. "I'm sorry Janet, I … didn't mean it," she stated in a barely audible whisper. Marcus kind of just stood there and took the room in. He was still clueless, but picked up on the fact that it, whatever it was, was a point of contention between the girls and so was best avoided.

Blackjack stirred from the loud arguing. Smelling the aromatic soup, he woke up and stretched his legs. Blackjack turned and noticed Janet, then Marcus. "Blackjack!" Marcus cried out enthusiastically. He ran over, picked up and hugged the umbreon. "I feel like I haven't seen you in forever," he said. Janet couldn't help but smile at the scene.

"How many times do I have to tell you not to pick me up," said Blackjack with a grin. Marcus clutched his head in surprise. "I need to talk you, but right now I need some time to recover," Marcus told him. Blackjack nodded his head in agreement. "Let's eat before the soup gets too cold," Tracy mumbled. Janet cautiously handed Tracy a bowl.

The soup was warm and hardy. It was the perfect meal for lightening everyone's spirits. Marcus felt his headache dissipate with each bite; he realized it probably wasn't the overexerting of his ability that caused his headache, but rather, his lack of eating real food for several days.

"Lights out in fifteen minutes," the J.N.P. officer called. "Looks like you'll be leaving soon," muttered Tracy. Janet took her bowl and stacked it with the others. "Um, do you mind if I take Blackjack tonight? My headache is gone and I want to talk about … Charles' funeral," Marcus said. Tracy just kept wordlessly staring at the floor. "I think … that would be best saved for tomorrow Mark," Blackjack stated somberly, "I don't know if she could spend the night alone."

"Five minutes," the J.N.P. officer called.

"Is it alright if I hug you today Tracy?" Janet offered. Tracy shook her head no. Janet smiled sweetly and said, "Okay, the offer is always good though." "Thank you," mumbled Tracy.

And with a final goodbye the boy, the scientist and the girl retired to their beds, to their dreams. In their dreams they had a momentary respite from the angry joys that pounded against the beach.


	57. 53 :::: Standing waves

_Standing Waves_

_**The young man shook violently as the icy winds whispered bitterness. "Well go on, get the hell out of here," the young lady said with a quiet anger. The umbreon stood poised - caught between hatred and affection. Only the whispering could be heard as those two humans waited for eternities and eternities.**_

_** "I said GET OUT!" She kicked him in the face. **_

_**"I… I had no idea. I'm so sorry, so, so sorry Lauren."**_

_** Her fist balled up."I told you not to call me that you bastard!" She kicked him harder.**_

* * *

><p>It is a slippery thing, sorrow. Sometimes, when I have my grip on it and it has it grip on me, it seems to fall away into the awful contentment of the years.<p>

We held the funeral on the beach. That's what Charles would want; though he probably doesn't care much anymore seeing as how he's dead. No, he's probably more worried about Jane. I can't imagine how she'll take it. She's a fragile little thing.

Only Sarge and I know about all this tragedy right now and Sarge isn't even here to tell anyone. The others don't know anything about this whole thing. This is the first time they've been let out since Charles died. It's a surreal experience watching happiness whirl around you while you are anchored to sadness.

You wouldn't think that a fire-type like Laura would love the water, but you should see her romping around in the sea foam. I can almost see the same wild look in her eyes that she had as a puppy. It's going to be a pain to clean her off later that much I know. Captain, Carolyn and Golem look like they're having a lot of fun digging in the sand - well Carolyn less so - but still, she looks happy.

I'll let them remain unaware… like _him_ and Janet.

Knowing something like that never brings about happiness, only regret. We always wonder why children are happy, yet we continue to chase knowledge. Sometimes I wish I could tell _him_ everything, but for now I'll let _him _remain unaware.

Anyways, they gave Tracy binoculars so she could watch the funeral from the window. The government is keeping her parent's bodies, so in a way, this funeral is as much for them as it is for Charles.

Tracy couldn't come today on account of her still being on suicide watch. It was kind of funny, in a disturbing way - trying to watch _him _piece it together the other day. I don't think _he_ ever did, at least, I hope _he _did not. Janet is worried that she'll try something my absence, but I know she wouldn't. I don't doubt the thought has entered her mind - that enticing thought beckons for all at some point - but she never actually attempted suicide: it's just a misunderstanding.

Let me begin by giving a little background. You see, when Tracy got shot, a tiny fragment of her necklace lodged itself deep inside of her. Paul claims that the surgeons had no choice but to leave it in since she was dying of blood loss. I think that's a load of crap, but it doesn't matter what I think. It would be fine if the fragment didn't hurt her so much, but it hurts her alright. It hurts her in more ways than one. Here's what I think she was doing that night when they found her in her room with blood-soaked sheets: I think she was trying to get that fragment out.

She's been doing a lot better to tell you the truth: she's started to talk and act like she used to. She still cries when the others aren't looking, but for the most part she can keep up the façade of normalcy. She still doesn't let other people touch her though; I don't think she'll ever be completely comfortable with that. Janet thinks it's because it irritates her wound, but I know better._ Lauren… _felt the same way about contact.

"Jan what do I say?" _he _asked.

"Uh… I can't remember, sorry," Janet mumbled. I can't remember the last time I saw her look so disappointed in herself. I wonder what her father would say?

"Blackjack?" _he _said. I suspect he's never been to a funeral before.

"Just say what comes to your mind."

_He_ cleared his throat and said, "Charles… you were the first pokémon I ever caught. I remember losing my first battle and realizing I didn't even know what gender my only pokémon was. I felt so selfish. Then you dropped down asking to come along with me. I think it was then that I started to think of pokémon more as individuals that had dreams of their own. Thank you."

I know _he _wanted to say more. "Can I say something?" Tracy asked. It's a little weird having someone attend by phone, but that was the only way she could really be here.

"Go ahead," said _he._

"Charles, you were the coolest ariados ever. Remember that time back when Marcus had his first battle, how you were fighting that skarmory? I thought Mark was such an idiot for using poison against steel. But somehow, you managed to get that skarmory poisoned; you would have beaten it if it wasn't for that cheap shot Charles. Please… take care of mom and dad for me."

"I guess it's my turn then, huh?" said Janet. She took a deep breath.

"Um… Charles, I didn't really know you all that well, but you were Mark's friend and for that I'm thankful. I think the best memory I have of you was after Azalea when, you know. Mark and I were pretty scared back there, but seeing you evolve was the most exciting thing. I wish you could be here now."

_He _turned to me, waiting for me to say something.

"I will tell him everything when I see him again." Funeral rites are for the living, the dead don't give a shit what you think of them: they're dead.

Tomorrow we leave for Cianwood. Sir says that we must stick to our planned schedule until the heat surrounding Tracy's parents dies down.

"Well I guess this is goodbye … Charles," _he _said.

Yes, goodbye Charles. I promise I will take care of Jane.

* * *

><p><em><strong>The young man pulled himself off the ground and stumbled over to the young lady. "What the hell do you think you're doing? I said get out of here dammit!" The young man threw his arms around her and cried into her shoulder. "I said… get… " She couldn't hold it in any longer. They wept.<strong>_

* * *

><p><span>Author's Note: I've changed my personal policy to be a little less ethical in terms of views and reviews. I'm not going to be exploiting some of the major site flaws I've noticed in my testing, but I will be more direct when it comes to asking for reviews on chapters I really want reviews on. While it's nice to get a review for any chapter, realistically that isn't going to happen so I think I'm going to focus on the chapters I'm more apprehensive about.<span>


	58. 54 :::: The path of least resistance

_The path of least resistance  
><em>

The boat looked miniscule as it traversed the deep dark sea guided only by the light of the newborn moon. However, it was only a little smaller than the boat Marcus had taken when he first arrived from Kanto. The boat was far from full: the outbreak of riots made traveling much less appealing. Three humans and an umbreon stirred about in their rooms. They were the only ones in this section of the boat – something that made things harder and easier.

"Janet, you don't have to babysit," said Tracy. Janet drummed on her legs nervously. "What are you talking about Trace?" she asked with a laugh. "Don't treat me like a child Janet, I'm not stupid," Tracy said with an equally fake laugh thrown in to make a point. "I just want to make sure you're alright," Janet yawned. She continued to drum on her leg.

As she drummed Tracy noticed how much more toned Janet's body had become since she had first begun their journey. She pulled off "leg" much better than she would have thought - of course, that wasn't necessarily a good thing. More "leg" meant more danger.

"So," said Janet casually, "I was thinking we could check out the casino. You like card games right? Wouldn't that be fun?"

Tracy laughed uncomfortably, "No, I think all those lights and sounds would be a little too much for me right now." Janet frowned and began to drum faster. "I heard the bar is pretty quiet," Janet said grabbing her hand, "We'll take little steps together. Come on!" Tracy quickly pulled her hand out of Janet's grip. Janet retracted her hand like a wounded beast. "Sorry, I didn't - I forgot about…"

Tracy looked at her own hand like it didn't belong to her. "Your hand," Tracy said with a questioning tone, "Janet, your hand is really sweaty."

"Must be the heat," Janet said. Tracy examined Janet suspiciously, Janet averted her eyes. "Jan, you stole my mouthwash didn't you?" asked Tracy. Janet looked ashamed for a fraction of a second when she mentioned the mouthwash. "Wh-What are you talking about Trace?" Janet laughed. It carried a hint of nervousness that would have gone unnoticed if she didn't know her.

Janet was smart, perhaps the smartest people Tracy knew, but sometimes she acted like such an idiot. She turned a blind eye to the little things to preserve their friendship, but she would have to address it someday before Janet made an idiotic mistake she wouldn't be able to repeat. "This is starting to become a big problem Jan," said Tracy quietly. Janet didn't face her. "Jan, me and Paul have been talking and -"

A knock at the door interrupted her. Maybe it just wasn't the right time. Janet jumped up to get the door. Marcus entered and slumped down in one of the chairs. "Well mom was busy cooking dinner and the arena doesn't open for another half-hour so, I figured I would hang out with you guys and wait for mom to call back," he explained.

Tracy looked over at Janet. "We were going to go over and check out the casino," Tracy said, "I need some time to prepare myself, you can drop me off when you go to the arena." She opened the door for Janet and whispered, "I'm not going to babysit you either." Janet paused for a moment before walking off towards the casino, her head slightly down.

Marcus promptly flopped down in Janet's bed with a sigh. "So the battle arena…" said Tracy. "Yeah I figured I'd do a few battles to get the team back into shape before our big match against Chuck," said Marcus. "Would you mind taking Jerry along?" asked Tracy. Marcus nodded and accepted her pokéball. He looked at her apprehensively. "You sure you don't wa-" His phone began to ring and he answered it.

"Hello Markie, sorry I had to hang up earlier," chirped Lauren. "Moooooom," Marcus whined. "Oh, I mean, _Marcus_," Lauren teased.

"Um… thanks for taking Jerry, I really want him in good condition for when I get back on the horse," said Tracy as she tidied her hair.

"IS THAT A GIRL? Marcus Green what the hell do you think you're doing! Are you –"" – Mom! Relax it's just Tracy!" Marcus blurted out. "What is Tracy doing in your room! Were you two –"" – No!" Marcus shouted. His face was bright red.

"Mrs. Green he was just making sure I was alright. Uh, because my mom and dad just…". "Oh," Lauren said, "So then those people in the paper…"

"Yeah," Tracy mumbled.

"Oh Tracy, I'm so sorry," Lauren said sincerely. "It's okay," said Tracy. Marcus held his phone uncomfortably as the conversation suddenly didn't include him. "Well you're always welcome at my house. Consider yourself an official Green," declared Lauren cheerfully. Tracy was touched by the gesture.

"Ummm, so we weren't uh… doing anything," Marcus stated cautiously. "I see that now Markie," Lauren laughed anxiously, "Not that you can't. You _are_ an adult now and I suppose that any boy your age would be interested in _that _and I do want grandchildren someday. Oh, make sure the girl you do _that _with has soft hair because - " " - Mom!" Marcus whispered harshly. "Oh I'm doing it again aren't I?" said Lauren sheepishly.

The conversation met full swing after the initial misunderstanding and embarrassing moments. Tracy wasn't supposed to be in it originally, but Lauren was glad to accommodate her. It was nice to have someone to anchor to, someone who wasn't dealing with their own problems.

"Well I better get going Markie," said Lauren, "I cut myself pretty good while I was doing the dishes; I better put a bandage on it before I stain something." Marcus rolled his eyes, "Yes, wouldn't want to stain anything with your arterial spatter." "Goodbye Mrs. Green," said Tracy. "Bye Markie, I love you," said Lauren, "and Tracy you can call me anytime if you just want to talk about things." "Thanks," Tracy said with a small smile. The call ended.

* * *

><p>Tracy stood at the entrance to the casino and waved him goodbye. Talking with Lauren had put her in the best mood she had been in since the Cliffs. She felt confident. Not the false confidence that she had been showing to everybody, not even confidence really; more like optimism – hope for the future…<p>

**Marcus entered the arena. It was a large room with thick steel walls – located in the middle of the ship so everyone could see the pokémon battle at their convenience. He was relieved to find the arena unoccupied…**

Tracy scanned the casino apprehensively, the vision of hope fading into fear as the cacophony of whistling colors flashed around her. She was beginning to regret letting Janet go to the bar alone…

**Marcus shook the man's hand as they prepared for battle. The boat's rules severely limited the number of moves they could use since the charter company didn't want to get anything damaged. Before the boats were designed with arenas, trainers would battle on deck often destroying parts of the boat and generally irritating people. In a way the arenas were less a service and more an insurance policy. But Marcus did not care about any of that. He cared about the battle…**

Tracy found the bar. It was less than quiet. Everywhere she looked there was another passenger laughing or talking - their words were becoming blurry. She could suddenly feel the rocking motion that she thought she had become adjusted to some time ago. She tried to calm herself down. All the confidence from earlier was eradicate under the sensory overload. She wanted to go back to the room. Tracy looked down at the floor. The carpet was dirty and the design looked like a small child had vomited up crayons on a chalkboard. Someone bumped into and she jumped. "Janet!" she shouted desperately. "Janet!"

**Marcus smiled as his opponent sent out a pokémon he recognized: a meganium – the final evolution of the grass-type that Johto offered. He tossed out his own starter and the battle began…**

Tracy closed her eyes and took a few ragged breaths as she slumped down against the wall of the bathroom. She had to get away from everything and this was the only safe-haven around. A lot of the women who were entering and exiting the bathroom stared at her. She felt frustrated, frustrated with herself and Janet. She heard something coming out of one of the stalls.

"**Megan take down!" Marcus' opponent ordered. Laura dodged with ease. He went over the mental checklist of moves he could use. Obviously attacks involving fire were out of the question, but that didn't mean he didn't have options. He had been waiting to try out this move since he had evolved his growlithe. "Extremespeed!" Marcus commanded…**

Tracy opened the stall door cautiously. She saw Janet, drunk and sprawled out with a guy underneath her - his hands up under her shirt. He whirled around at the sudden intrusion. What struck Tracy most was how young he looked: he must have been a year or two younger than she was. This was probably the closest he had ever been to a woman. He bolted out as fast as he could, gaining a story he would brag about all his friends in Cianwood. "Wait don't leave," Janet slurred. Tracy scrunched her nose and closed her eyes as Janet's rank breath hit her senses. "Janet what do you think you're doing!" Tracy shouted. "I just wanted to relieve some stress," slurred Janet, "Don't worry about scaring that one off, there'll be more." "You left me out there!" Tracy yelled. Janet staggered to her feet. "Oh, sorry," Janet muttered, "You'll feel better once we get some ass. C'mon the drinks here are real cheap." Tracy clenched her fists tightly and began to cry. "Trace you're in my way," Janet slurred. "Dammit Janet! We were gone for half an hour!" Tracy shouted, "Don't you have any self-respect?" Janet looked away. "Tracy please," Janet said. Tracy stood fast. Janet reached her hand out slowly, "Don't make me Tracy." Tracy shook, but held-fast. Janet grabbed her on the upper arm…

"**Again!" Marcus ordered. Laura slammed into the meganium again. He was actually winning for a change! "Just keep attacking Laura!" he shouted enthusiastically. Laura hit over and over, battering the poor meganium to its trainer's dismay. Marcus noticed something out of the corner of his eye. It was Blackjack. He smiled at Blackjack, but Blackjack shook his head and motioned to follow. He looked over at the battle that he was dominating. "Finish it!" he shouted. Laura charged into the meganium with all her might…**

The girl jerked away and shoved Janet back into the stall. "Trace please; I'm - I'm weak," Janet slurred pitifully. Janet lay on her belly and tried to crawl to the adjacent stall. The girl grabbed her by the shirt and dragged her to her feet. The girl brought her fist back so Janet could see it before she let it fly at her face. "This hurts us," the girl said bitterly. The girl brought her fist back and punched her again. She brought her fist back and readied herself for a third punch. Janet winced and cowered. The girl stepped back and stared at her fist. It was bloody. She looked down at her cowering friend. She was too intoxicated to fight back. The girl ran away…

"**Blackjack I thought you were going to hang out at the buffet table? This had better be good: I was winning for…" Marcus trailed off when he saw Janet's growing black eye and bloody nose. "Janet what happened?" Marcus asked with quiet rage. Janet looked down like a frightened child. "Who did this to you?" Marcus asked angrily.**


	59. 55 :::: Perigee

_Perigee_

They led the lady into the dimly lit office; their guns pressed firmly against her back like fearful savages ushering a wounded beast into a ramshackle cage.

They directed her to sit in the unpolished wooden chair that sat in the middle of the room. There was a large stain in the carpet beneath the chair - it was a shame that crimson didn't compliment the lovely pattern, it really threw the aesthetic of the otherwise fairly stylish room off.

Three bodyguards stood next to a tall leather chair at the other end of the room, one a bald giant with a grey suit on, the other two unspectacular in appearance except for the eternally sour expressions they wore. The large leather chair faced away from her, but she knew there was someone in it. She could see a hand tapping on the arm of the chair, almost as if the person in the chair was conducting some invisible orchestra.

"Boss we found her snooping around outside," they said, "She was talking with someone on this phone." They handed the giant her phone, who then handed it to the hand. The hand made a lazy dismissive gesture and they left the room.

The bodyguards drew their weapons and surrounded her. The lady studied each of them carefully while she could.

"Barging onto my turf without permission; I must say, I admire your bravery little girl." the man in the leather chair said. His voice was full of smug contempt. "Why don't you tell me why you're here?"

The lady smirked at his melodramatic posturing, but thought it might not be a good idea to voice her thoughts.

"Fine play it your way then," the man in the leather chair said looking at her phone, "I'm sure Mr. 'Marcus' would love to hear you scream one last time before you die." The man in the leather chair's finger hovered over the dial button.

"Don't!" the lady blurted out. She immediately knew that had been a mistake.

"Tell me why you're here," the man in the leather chair repeated.

"I'm here to see you Vince," the lady said, regaining her composure. The hand stopped moving. Vince spun the leather chair around to get a look at her. He looked different from when she last saw him: more worn and aged.

"I haven't been called that in a long time," said Vince. He squinted and examined her until his eyes suddenly lit up with recognition. "I thought you died," he muttered.

"So did I," the lady replied.

"Gentlemen," Vince announced with a flourish of his hands, "We have an old friend among us: the legendary Lady Lauren!" A wild bolt of lightning entered the eyes of the bodyguards and they took a step back under her scrutiny.

"I thought you said you weren't going to follow your father's footsteps," the lady said coldly. Back in the day, he had been so sensitive. If she had been different, would he be here now? No he tread his own path as she tread hers.

"Oh this," said Vince as he looked around pausing noticeably on the stain at her feet, "things change Lauren." He tossed her phone up into the air and caught it in the other hand. "So what brings you here after all these years?" asked Vince.

The lady tossed a newspaper at his feet. A dead couple stared up at them from the photo on the front page. "I guess this means our twenty year reunion is cancelled," muttered Vince with a small chuckle thrown in at his own joke. It looked like one part of him remained intact after all.

"She gave me something before they died," the lady said, "You're going to give me something too."

"I don't think you understand how this works," Vince laughed, "You're going to tell me who this 'Marcus' is and then you're going to die."

"He's … my son," the lady said.

"What do you take me for, some kind of idiot?" Vince shouted, "Tell me who he really is!"

Vince and the lady stared each other down, locked in a struggle of wills. Vince smiled wickedly. "Oh, this is too good. Lauren - Lady _Lauren_! Has a kid," Vince laughed. The bodyguards began to laugh too. The lady stared at them sharply and they stopped. "Tell me, where's the father?" Vince mocked.

"Dead," the lady said quietly.

"Shame," said Vince, "I would have liked to meet the bastard that was ballsy enough to tap your tainted ass." Vince looked at her phone and smiled, "I guess I'll have to settle." "Leave Mark out of this, he doesn't know a thing," the lady told him with a quiet anger.

"Oh, playing mother Ursaring?" he asked clapping his hands together once, "Tell me, is he an abomination like you?" The lady stared at him with the glare she had perfected in her youth. "Very well, I see you have a family to protect," Vince said sincerely as he dropped her phone, "But I'm afraid you won't be leaving; you see I also have a family to protect." He snapped and the giant retrieved an ornate box.

"We both know how this will end," the lady said.

"Do we?" Vince sneered, "Tell you what, since you're an old friend we'll make this a fair fight." The giant opened the box and handed her the gun inside of it. She stared at it, feeling the old metal weigh down on her. "You can have this gun and I'll use my bare hands," Vince said.

The lady tossed the gun at his feet. He picked it up and chuckled. The bodyguards lowered their weapons and wait for the bang.

"No? Very well, I shall be honored to send you to him. That is, if you even have a soul Lau-"

The lady bolted up and put her plan into action. She dashed at one of the sour bodyguards, two blows to the ribs and an elbow to the temple sent him down to the ground. The giant lunged at her with a wide haymaker. She grabbed the giant's neck and used the punch's momentum to slide around him, snatching his gun in the process. The other sour bodyguard emptied his clip.

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!

Bullets pumped into the giant, making him jerk with each hit. The lady returned fire.

CRACK!

CRACK! CRACK!

One in the hand and two in the knees. She let the giant crash to the ground as she ran up to the injured bodyguard and whipped him in the head with the butt of her newly acquired gun. He was out cold.

CRACK!

A bullet tagged her in the forearm. "Very impressive Lauren," said Vince, "I was beginning to think you had forgotten the weight of a gun." The lady looked down at her bleeding forearm and smirked. "Of course," he continued, "Now I _have _to kill you. You've gone and gotten Keith killed and you know how hard it is to find good help these days." Vince frowned as he looked at the dead giant, "Oh Keith, you made such fantastic chili; the monthly picnic will be nothing without you."

The lady tossed an ammo clip onto the ground in front of Vince. He stared at it, then tried to shoot his gun. It made empty clicks. Vince raised his hands slowly.

CRACK!

She shot him in the forearm. "Oh, forgotten the weight of a gun," the lady said smugly. She picked up her phone and dialed. "I have to call my son. Make a sound and this gun and I will make sure you'll never have one of your own," she warned. She steadied her breathing and tested her voice to make sure it was normal sounding.

"Hey Markie, sorry I had to hang up earlier."

* * *

><p>"Why would she do that?" Marcus shouted. The boy and the umbreon ran alongside one another.<p>

"Do not judge her so harshly," said Blackjack. "I know, I know; her parents just died. But you can't just go around punching your friends," he said. The two rounded another corner as they searched the ship for Tracy. She was probably his least favorite person in their little group, though his least favorite had been Blackjack at one time and now they were pretty close again. After a while, he had grown to miss their little talks.

"I don't understand why you like her so much," Marcus said, pausing to catch his breath for a second and look around. "She reminds me of someone," Blackjack replied, his uncaring eyes glinting in the moonlight. Blackjack rarely mentioned things like that, even after he found about his father. "Who?" asked Marcus as they rounded another corner.

For some reason he knew he would find her in this the empty section of the ship. There she was, looking at some point in the distance. "Have patience," said Blackjack, "One with great foresight, knows how little they see."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Marcus asked as he turned to look at Blackjack. But the umbreon was already gone. He would have to find out later. Marcus tried to take Blackjack's advice - whatever it meant - to heart, but it was a little hard to forgive Tracy so quickly when Janet was probably still bleeding. He edged close to her and waited for an apology.

They remained silent for a long time. He began to wonder if she had even seen him. He was close enough to see that she had been crying earlier, though if the last few months were any indicator, she would never have admitted it. Growing tired of the silence, he gathered the courage to speak.

"Tracy why would you do that?" he asked her in a way that he hoped would not sound too patronizing. Tracy continued to stare at the sea. "Why would you hurt her like that?" Marcus asked, his tone a little more serious. Tracy had absolutely no reaction. "Aren't you going to explain yourself," Marcus said, now sounding more angry.

"Would you save me?" Tracy asked quietly. It was his turn to make no sound. "If I fell in, would you save me?" she asked, more to herself than him. "It's so dark, I can barely see where the ship ends and the sea begins; they would never find me," she stated with a twisted smile. "Tracy, what are you talking about?" asked Marcus. Tracy chuckled to herself and spat off the edge, waiting for the sound that never came.

"We're pretty high up aren't we?" she mused, "I bet my neck would snap before I even started swimming, huh?" Marcus was beginning to grow worried. "That's okay though: I think I'd rather die in an instant than spend hours treading water waiting for help to come," Tracy said. She chuckled again, a deep laugh that sounded like tribal drums. "But even if your neck snaps, your brain lives for a few minutes – that's what Paul says," she told him. She spat off the edge again. "I think almost everyone spends their last few minutes like that, drowning in their own body," she said. "You sound like Blackjack," Marcus said, trying desperately to claw his way out of this situation.

She turned and smiled at him. "You know, in ancient times, they used to have weapons that would pull you apart, atom by atom," she said. She looked at the black sea churning silently below. "I never understood why they hated them. I think that'd be the best way to die. You wouldn't even know what happened, you'd just be doing the laundry or playing with your children and then you'd be dead," she laughed. The gleam in her eye disturbed him.

She began to climb up onto the railing. "Tracy…" Marcus said. She stood on top of the railing and gripped the floor above. "Tracy!" Marcus shouted. He ran forward, but stopped, afraid that any sudden movement would accidentally send her to the deep dark waters below. He stood trapped.

"Do you believe in Arceus?" Tracy asked. He needed to keep her talking. "Yeah kind of, my mom never let me go to a church. Most of the stuff I know comes from what Uncle Steve said," he admitted. "My parents were the same way," muttered Tracy.

"Do you think Arceus would let someone like me into heaven?" Tracy asked.

Marcus had no idea how to answer that question. "When we were talking to Lauren today, it reminded me," Tracy said. Her legs started shaking. "You want to know what I said when they told me they were dead; I said 'Oh.'" Tracy said bitterly, "I never cared about them, I only cared about myself." "I-I felt the same way about Charles," Marcus admitted, "I was sad he was gone… but a little part of me was glad it was him and not me."

"You're a good person Mark, you treat other people like a good person should," she said, "I'm … an asshole." "But you're a good person on the inside Tracy," Marcus insisted. His words were unconfident and forced. Tracy chuckled again. "I'm scared Mark," she whispered, "Would you save me?" Marcus remained silent for a long time. "Of course I would," he squeaked.

"That's what I'm scared of," she laughed. She closed her eyes and let the wind break across her face. Her grip on the floor above loosened. For a brief moment, everything seemed dark and still.

Marcus took the opportunity to jump forward and grab her and pull her down to the deck. "Let me go," she said, struggling to break free of his grip.

"Tracy you're freaking me out," Marcus said.

"Stop," Tracy mumbled. Her eyes were getting glassy and unfocused.

"Tracy this is for your own good," Marcus told her.

"Stop!" she screamed, her eyes filled with fiery fear. She began to thrash with an animalistic terror. He let her go and she tumbled back to the floor.

"You don't understand Mark," she sobbed, "Touching hurts." She quietly sobbed against the railing, as if she were hiding her face from him. Marcus had no idea what to do. The only thing that came to mind was giving her a hug, but that would only make things worse. How were you supposed to comfort someone that hated contact... words? Was there anything he could say that could comfort someone who had been ready to kill themselves just moments ago? He noticed something.

"Tracy, your wound!" Marcus said. All the activity had caused it to open up again. A red shape slowly expanded across her T-shirt. She looked down and hastily covered it with her hands, embarrassed. "Let's get you to my room," he said.

* * *

><p>"I got your pack," Marcus wheezed, "Janet's passed out." She smiled and nodded at him from the bed, still clutching the wound.<p>

"You can sleep in the bed, I'll sleep on the couch," Marcus said. "Thank you," Tracy blurted out, "Thanks for… uh, being there." She looked extremely embarrassed. "I wasn't actually going to jump. I just wanted to see…" Tracy trailed off. Marcus didn't insult her with a response but said, "You should probably take a shower."

The ship recycled all non-drinking water. Thirty seven years ago, an old curmudgeon who was well known for complaining about the littlest thing complimented the captain on what a fine job the cleaning crew did in the showers. When the captain mention this to her friend (who happened to be the CFO of the company) over drinks, an inner-company investigation was launched revealing that 9.1% of the total expenses incurred out at sea were due to the energy required to treat water that was being used for cleaning. The charter company, which then went under a different name, decided to curb this expense by using separate water tanks for drinking, cleaning and sewage. In doing so, they edged ahead of their main competitor and managed to expand their routes to other nations. Many years later, an obsessive compulsive diplomat from Kanto would refuse to travel on these ships because of this very practice, damaging the already fragile international relations between Johto and Kanto. Later still, a boy would find that he had overslept and missed his opportunity to meet with a professor after using one of these showers.

But Tracy did not know any of that; Tracy only knew that the chemicals used to treat this recycled water made her wound sting as she tried to clean it. It made her want to get out of the shower as soon as possible.

Marcus gave Tracy a nod as she stepped out of the bathroom with a fresh white T-shirt and a towel wrapped around her head. She gave him a half-hearted smile as she eased herself into his bed. He had already set up the couch with the sleeping bag he normally used when they camped.

"Sorry about all that weirdness back there," she said apologetically, back to her 'normal' self. "It's fine," Marcus said, "How's your wound?"

"Oh, it's all good now," she said. She brought her hand up to it absent-mindedly. "The shard makes it bleed a little every once in a while, but never that bad. As long as we don't do any more wrestling I think it should be fine," she said. She shifted the towel."That's good," he said.

Tracy scratched her arm nervously as the silence continued unabated. She felt a little obligated to say something, especially after what had just happened. "Marcus, you once asked me why I wanted to become a trainer," Tracy stated. This was the perfect opportunity to talk about something she had been thinking about for a while now. "Yeah back at Carl's," said Marcus. "Do you want to hear the real reason?" Tracy asked, unwrapping the towel and letting her hair hang down."Nope," Marcus replied jokingly. Tracy shook her head and began her little story

"You probably already noticed this, but I tend to get injured easily," Tracy stated. Marcus listened silently. "It… was the same way when I was little. Growing up, I was always in and out of the hospital." Tracy didn't know whether to go into details or not. She didn't really like talking about her personal life.

She paused to get her thoughts together. "I know I bitch you out for taking lots of breaks when we hike, but I'm always really glad when we stop. It's gotten stronger as I've grown older, but my body is still pretty frail," she admitted. "I've never noticed," Marcus said, "Isn't all this a bit dangerous?"

"Yes, it's dangerous," Tracy said, "but when I would talk to all the geriatrics, they would all tell me about when they were trainers. Some of them spent a month as a trainer and the rest of their lives selling hoses or some other boring crap, but they'd always talked about that month. When I watched weak pokémon grow stronger it made me feel like maybe I could grow stronger too. Arceus, that sounded less lame in my head." "Is that why you freak out whenever I…" Marcus wiggled his fingers, their secret sign for psychic shenanigans. Tracy laughed, "Yeah, something like that."

Tracy frowned and looked down, chewing on her lip apprehensively. Her hair dripped a little on the bed. "Mark, can I tell you a secret?" Tracy asked seriously. Marcus nodded once. Suddenly the room felt very quiet. "I… when…sometimes… ummm, let me think for a second," Tracy said. He had never seen her so flushed and embarrassed.

"When I turned seven, my mom and dad invited a whole bunch of kids from my class over for my birthday party. I didn't know my limits so well back then and I ended up hurting myself," Tracy said quickly, "You know how it is with hospitals, right? You go in for one thing and they find something completely different." Marcus listened intently. "I didn't understand it at the time," Tracy said quietly, "but I remember the doctor sounding so serious." Marcus began to rub his pocket watch. "They said that I uh… that my uh…" Tracy struggled to come up with a way to say what she was trying to say. She defaulted back to the thing she knew best: pokémon.

"Ummm, you know how pokémon have egg groups and stuff," Tracy stammered. She thought she must have sounded like such an idiot. "Uh… what?" Marcus asked in bewildered confusion. Tracy fiddled with her hair nervously. "I guess you could say I'm part of the 'no egg' group," she said with a nervous laugh. Marcus sat up and stared at her with a blank expression on his face. "You know like nidoqueen…" Tracy said. She should have known that the boy that tried to use a normal attack on a ghost-type wouldn't know a thing about breeding. She was going to have to be a little more _blunt_.

"I guess what I'm trying to say is, if I ever met someone I really liked, I wouldn't ever have a family with them," Tracy said, "because I_ can't_." She watched as the realization spread across his face. He narrowed his eyes as if inspecting her. "Don't look at me like that!" she exclaimed, "It's not like I'm missing any parts. It's a genetic thing, I still have PMS and stuff like any other girl."

"So, is that your secret?" Marcus asked. This conversation had taken an uncomfortable and unfamiliar turn. Tracy shook her head "no" hastily.

"Ummm, can we put this conversation on hold for later please?" Marcus asked looking down at his feet, "This is getting real awkward for me." He looked up and saw her embarrassed expression change to a scowl.

"Awkward… Awkward? Marcus, you are the king of awkward!" Tracy growled in frustration, "Do you know how many times I've listened to you whine about losing to someone random person because you don't bother learning a thing about your own damn pokémon? Do you know how annoying it is to listen to you complain about having an awesome gift that lets you do amazing things while I'm stuck in my shitty body? When _I_ have something _I_ want to talk about, suddenly you decide you want to shut-up! Oh, I'm so sorry that I'm making _you_ feel _uncomfortable_ with my silly problem of never being able to have family again now that my parents are plastered all over the news; please talk about your stupid dad some more!"

She withdrew, realizing she had lost her temper for the second time that night. It was like she was looking at her own bloody fist again, only this time it was worse. Marcus certainly looked hurt by her words. She could see him rubbing his watch in his pocket.

"I'm sorry," Tracy whispered, "I-I didn't mean to bring up your dad." "It's okay, you've been through a lot of pain lately," Marcus said hollowly.

"That doesn't make it right," said Tracy, "Just because something bad happened to you doesn't mean you have the right to hurt other people. I used to get so mad at the patients who thought they could treat the nurses like shit because they were dying." Tracy swallowed the lump in her throat. "I am that person aren't I? I'm that asshole to you and Jan," she said.

Marcus turned meet her sad gaze with his own. She was right in many ways. He was acting pretty selfish. "How about we forget everything I said about awkwardness," Marcus proposed.

"No it's okay I mean you shouldn't feel…" Tracy didn't know what she was trying to say. "Look, you have to tell me the rest after all that," Marcus said in a joking way. Tracy couldn't help but smile at his ability to take her violent mood swings in stride. If someone had told her this was the same boy that she had met back at the beginning of this journey, she would have laughed in their face and maybe punched them too, just because that seemed to be the way she was handling things lately.

"Are you sure? It's only going to more uncomfortable from here on out," Tracy warned in the same half-joking manner. Marcus grinned uncomfortably and signaled for her to continue.

"Well um, okay, so you'd think that someone with my 'condition' would be all over the dating scene, but I never got into it. I mean, I liked looking at some of the guys in my grade during gym, but that was it really," Tracy said nervously. Her blush was very visible, but she continued, "I always kind of chalked it up to me being in and out of school all the time, but Janet said something and it really got me thinking." "Got you thinking what?" Marcus asked, now genuinely curious.

"Well sometimes, when we're hiking, I let you and Paul go in front of me so I can, you know," Tracy stammered, "uh, get a look at you." Marcus would have been a little creeped-out if he didn't do the same thing to her from time to time. "Well every so often, I catch myself umm… staring at Janet's ass - and not just to compare - just to, you know, stare at it," Tracy admitted.

"What do you mean 'stare'?" asked Marcus slowly. Tracy's fingers kissed each other rapidly as she played nervously with her hands. "Well, I _stare,_" the word came out with an unintentional throaty rasp that made her curse herself inwardly.

"Tracy… are you a lesbian?"

Tracy fiddled with her hair and looked down at the bed, trying to hide how red her face was. "I'm definitely not a… a lesbian: I like men so I can't be a lesbian," Tracy said quietly. She sighed and closed her eyes. "But maybe… maybe a small part of me – a really, really tiny part of me," Tracy stammered, "likes women too."

And with one small sentence, Marcus' entire view of someone he thought he knew well enough changed. It seemed as if Tracy were waiting for his reaction, ready to pounce on it like some sort of creature he had never seen before.

* * *

><p><span>Author's Note:<span>

This is one of those chapter's that I'd really like to see reviewed, especially if the review has something negative to say.


	60. 56 :::: Syzygy

_Syzygy_

The young lady moved the food closer to the tiny flickering flame, terrified of burning the tasteless glob that had eluded her while she was his prisoner. He always gave her just the right amount, enough to keep her from dying but not enough to keep her from young lady grew impatient and began to eat the half-cooked rations.

It tasted awful and made her insides feel like they were burning. Her body wasn't used so much food at once after being subject to his cruelty. His umbreon eyed the food hungrily, but remained by its master's side. The young lady narrowed her eyes and tightened her grip on the knife. Her hand was still burned from the shadow ball that damn umbreon had used on her awhile ago when she had tried to steal some of its food.

She loathed that damn thing; if it hadn't been there, then this whole mess would have been sorted out and she wouldn't be stuck in this cave with the man she hated.

The young lady glanced at the umbreon again and balanced the knife. It looked like it would make a pretty good meal… and killing that damn umbreon would definitely upset him. Maybe she would even make _him_ eat some of his own pokemon, wouldn't that be marvelous! Then again, umbreons did have poison glands and she didn't want him to die yet. She wanted to prolong his agony for a long as possible.

"_Probably doesn't have much tender meat on it anyways,"_ she mused to herself as she put a little more fuel on the fire. She gazed into those golden rings as they pulsated faintly in the shadows of the greedy flames. In its own bizarre way, that umbreon was her. Though it did so more willingly than she, the umbreon was still forced to do that bastard's bidding.

She pushed away the sudden bout of sympathy and turned back to her fire. She needed to focus on vengeance! If slaying that damn umbreon would make him suffer a fraction of the grief she had suffered then she would slay it a thousand times over. She scowled as she prepared to take another bite, but stopped as she heard the umbreon stir.

It stared at her with those bright, expressive eyes that she hated so. As she peered into those spheres a wicked idea came to her.

She would make that umbreon hers. She would seize his childhood companion and make it hers. He would not suffer loss, he would suffer betrayal. Oh! how she wanted him to suffer - suffer in the mind, body and spirit. She wanted to break him, to consume him, to crush him. That ugly soul would grunt and moan under her enormous torment until it shattered into innumerable pieces; and then, and only then, would he be able to comprehend her own ugly soul.

She extended a piece of the tasteless glob towards the umbreon. It looked at her bewildered and cautiously craned its neck towards the meal timidly. It winced as it took the bite, hoping she was not going to kill it. She felt a strange warmth fill her as she watched the hungry pokémon chew the tasteless ration. She beat the warmth down: this was purely for revenge. She was a monster, a predator that stalked the night, faceless and horrifying. Monsters did not know kindness. She felt the urge to touch the umbreon. She wanted to feel the soft looking fur on its head.

She had seen others doing the same to their pokémon, perhaps it increased affection? Her mind agreed, doing that with the umbreon would further her vengeance. She thrust her hand out timorously until it hovered just above the umbreon's head. The umbreon's muscles relaxed as she stroked its head. She struggled for a moment before remembering the name

"There you go Magic," she whispered.

The young lady grew afraid at the sound of her own voice. It did not sound like her. It sounded gentle almost...feminine - like some other person had invaded her body. She flinched away as the young man moaned.

He opened his eyes and looked around the cave. The umbreon put its head under his hand so that he knew he was there for him. He squeezed it's head weakly.

The young lady pretended that she had not seen him and hoped that he had not seen her. The speech she had planned for his awakening was cast by the wayside as panic held her in its grip. Out of the corner of her eyes, she could see him turning to look at her.

"What is your name?" he asked in a hoarse whisper, sounding like death rode close behind him.

The question hit her like a bullet. She felt a gentle warmth that she had not known since she was a child fill her body. For a moment her countenance became soft, but she quickly hardened it again. The young lady glared at him and said nothing - let her hollow eyes speak for her rage. He looked troubled.

"Derek," he whispered. The word sounded painful for him to say. His face contorted into a grimace of horror and he looked towards the roof of the cavern. "I'm scared," he whispered. The young lady's rage flared up at these words. "I can feel it… I am dying," he whispered, "Please, I want to thank you and… apologize for the things I did before I'm gone, but I need your name." The young lady did not know how to feel.

The umbreon looked on in confusion as the little fire cast wispy shadows of the young lady and the young man on the frigid walls of the cave. The young lady opened her mouth without thinking and whispered back, "Lauren."

* * *

><p>Marcus turned the squeaky spigot and let the warm water focus his mind as the ship slid silently through the sea. They would be reaching Cianwood soon and he had little time to shower.<p>

Today's thoughts were focused on Tracy and all that she had said last night. He could hardly believe that she had actually said and done the things she said and did. Maybe he had fallen asleep and dreamed it all during one of the lulls in their conversation? No, the memories were too real to be a dream. He picked up the soap and started washing himself.

It was weird knowing things about Tracy. He had always considered her one of those people who weren't real – like a school teacher or Blackjack. He never really thought of her having much of a life before they met.

It was probably that whole memory thing... no, even after she gained her memory back she didn't talk about herself much. She was just Tracy: the girl who was either teasing him or getting herself injured. She was supposed to be sarcastic and collected at all times, even when she was hurt. But last night, she seemed so, so... he couldn't think of words to describe it.

He shut the water off and pressed his head against the wall. Was he really that self-centered? Tracy was supposed to be his friend, but he knew nothing about her. Sure, she was more Janet's friend and their friendship was a little odd, but she still thought of him as a friend. How could he not know that she had spent her childhood in the hospital? Tracy didn't care what anyone else thought of her. She probably would have told him about it if he had asked. _"But I never asked," _Marcus thought bitterly.

Last night, she had wanted company and he had wandered off to go train his pokémon. She was alone and in pain and he sent her into a casino and hoped that everything would work out. He was so angry when he had seen Janet's black-eye; he wanted to hurt the person who hurt her. That person was him the whole time.

He lingered on that image as he felt some of the water seep into his hair roots. Why did Tracy do that? Was it because she was angry? Was it because she was confused? Marcus licked his teeth as another, stranger thought crossed his mind. Perhaps Tracy had punched Janet because she loved her.

He rubbed his fingers together slowly, pretending his father's watch was in his made sense, when he thought about it. Tracy had openly admitted to staring at his cousin on occasion and ever since they had left Goldenrod, Tracy had been more concerned about where Jan was going and what she was doing. Given his cousin's _friendly_ nature when she was drunk, Marcus could picture a situation that would make Tracy want to punch her. Or maybe Jan was never really punched at all: what if Tracy and Jan were… did Jan swing that way too? Maybe Tracy and Jan were doing _that_ and Tracy had gotten so frisky that-

"_-Arceus! What are you thinking!" _ Marcus mentally chastened himself. It was weird to think of Tracy having desires like that… especially for his cousin. She had always been physically female in his mind, but when it came to things like _that_ she was always just nothing.

"Mark hurry up, we reached port a while ago and you're taking forever," Tracy called out making him jump. _"I didn't think I spent that long…"_ Marcus thought to himself as he quickly hopped out of the shower and threw his training clothes on. Tracy waited in the room impatiently, already wearing her pack along with her now standard wardrobe of jeans and a white T-shirt. She must have had fifty of those things squirreled away in her pack.

"I went to talk to Janet while you were in the shower," Tracy said, her voice a little bit guilt ridden, "but she had already left when I got to our room." Their eyes locked for a moment before they both glanced to the side. "I think it would be best if I gave her some space, so I was wondering if you wouldn't mind switching hotel rooms with me?" Tracy asked furtively. Marcus nodded as he debated whether or not he would ask the question that was eating away at his mind.

"So last night when you told me you were, you know," Marcus blushed and scratched the back of his head nervously. Bringing this up had been a mistake, but it was too late to stop now. "Oh," Tracy said with a nervous laugh, "that I was _that way_." The words rang out more crisp and sure than she had anticipated. "Is um… is Jan _that way _too? Are you two uh, together?" Marcus asked.

Tracy scrunched her face up, "Me and… Janet? Arceus no!" She didn't know whether to laugh, cry or be insulted. Marcus looked relieved. "I mean she has a nice body – and she did come on to me once but… "Tracy trailed off before her remarks became too ugly. "…But you don't love her," Marcus finished for her.

"Well, I do love her, but as a friend," Tracy quickly stated. Marcus understood what she meant, after all, Janet was his cousin and he loved her.

Tracy sat down and took her pack off. "That's why I hurt her: I just wanted to make her… I don't know," said Tracy sadly, "Mark, most of the time I feel like the only thing that keeps her going is you." She immediately regretted saying that. He only saw the cheerful Janet, the Janet that was intelligent and kind. He had never seen the Janet that she knew. Marcus sat down on end of the bed next to Tracy.

"Mark, will you hug her, for me?" Tracy asked him. She pointed to her wound, "I can't anymore." "Yes," Marcus replied somberly. Tracy smiled faintly for a second.

"And can you also not tell her about me being into... women," said Tracy. Marcus was a little more hesitant to follow this request. "Right now, I'm not really sure if I actually am that way or if it's just…" Tracy tightened her face as she relived something, "having something like that done to me."

Her face snapped back to normal and she stood up. There was a moment, one maybe two seconds where he had to decide how he was going to respond to that statement. Marcus never did learn what had happened to her after he had gone to get help. Janet would always deflect the question and Blackjack would always give one of his cryptic non-answers whenever he bugged them about it. It must have been pretty traumatic given her recent state, but would she want to talk about it? She had been pretty open last night and she didn't even bring it up then.

"Come on let's get to the hotel before night comes again and we have to sleep here," Tracy said.

"Do you want to talk about it?" squeaked Marcus, his mouth catching up with his mind. Tracy stopped in the doorway. "Someday, I promise, but not now," she said, "Thanks for offering." "What are friends for?" Marcus replied with a cheerful smile as he picked up his stuff and they made their way off the ship.

Cianwood was a typical port city, rough in parts but full of vibrant character. There was one thing that made it different. Technically, it lay within a territory so it didn't have to follow some of the stricter laws that the mainland had. That and the beaches made it a popular tourist destination for the people of Johto, though the riots were causing a major dip in travel. It was convenient for them so they weren't going to complain.

A pair of familiar faces waited for them on the dock. An umbreon that looked entirely too pleased with himself stood next to an anxious looking human with an injured arm.

"Tracy! Marcus!" Sarah yelled as she ran up to them. Blackjack ambled behind her. Sarah hugged Tracy as best she could with one arm. Marcus would have noticed Tracy tense slightly at the human contact if he hadn't been so dumbfounded by the sudden appearance of his pseudo-girlfriend.

"I'm so sorry to hear about your parents," Sarah said sympathetically. "It's okay," Tracy said, trying not to squirm, "I wasn't very close to them." This wasn't exactly true, but she needed to get out of the half-hug before her heart exploded. Sarah released her with a light smile that said, "Oh, okay."

"Sarah! Sarah… Sarah?" Marcus repeated moronically. What was she doing here? "Hello Marcus," Sarah said. She had almost giggled but managed to stop herself. She didn't want to look like a dork. "Surprise," Tracy said half-heartedly. She had honestly forgotten Sarah would be waiting for them.

"Well, aren't you going to say anything?" Sarah asked. "Um, hi Sarah," said Marcus. Sarah couldn't hold back any longer. She hugged him, but quickly regained control of herself before things got awkward and pulled back.

"What are you – " " - I had to take some leave," the rookie cop said, "hurt myself during crowd control." She moved her sling-bound arm to show him what she meant. "You and Janet could be twins," Tracy commented in her usual sarcastic way. "Yeah, she said the exact same thing," laughed Sarah, "I guess we can talk at the hotel, wouldn't want to keep her waiting."

The three humans laughed as they made their way away from the dock the umbreon lingering close behind them. It paused and glanced back. There was only the sea behind it, its mind was only playing tricks on it in the moving shadows. It smiled to itself and ran to catch up with the humans as the man in black watched, watched and waited for his time to come. For the man in black was just an observer.


	61. 57 :::: Morton's Fork

_Morton's Fork  
><em>

The hotel seemed pretty decent from the lobby. Tracy had spent a little extra to be a little closer to the beach way back when she booked the hotel. They could hear the waves from their rooms according to the brochure, hopefully they would help her sleep better. Tracy waited beside Marcus on a cheaply upholstered sofa, idly scratching Blackjack behind the ear while they waited for Sarah to finish checking in.

"Hey, guess what?" beamed Sarah as she dangled three clunky looking room keys in front of Marcus, "I managed to get a discount for us." "Really that's great," said Marcus. "Did you whip out your handcuffs?" Tracy joked. "Sort of," Sarah giggled, "I got the discount because work's covering two of the days." She handed out the keys, giving Tracy the one that matched Janet's.

"Oh, wait I'm staying with Jan," Marcus commented as he switched his key with Tracy's. Tracy mentally winced, but accepted it. "I'm going to go check on her to make sure she's okay," Marcus said as he ran off ahead with Blackjack.

Sarah looked a little hurt by the gesture, as Tracy noticed. "Janet and I got in a bit of a fight," Tracy explained, hoping to reassure her. It seemed to work, because Sarah smiled again. "I must have been pretty brutal fight if you broke her arm like that," said Sarah as she picked up her suitcase. They started down the halls, looking at the numbers on the doors to see which one matched theirs. "The black eye is mine," Tracy told her, slightly ashamed of her temper, "The arm is from my nidoking." "Oh, I can sympathize," said Sarah, lifting her sling.

Sir had given them a cover story. If anyone asked, her nidoking was spooked and accidentally broken Janet's arm and gored her with its horn in one fell swoop. Tracy found the room and the entered in.

It was a fairly small room, but was nevertheless, very nice. The first thing Tracy noticed upon stepping in was the tiled floor. It was probably tiled to make the beach sand easier to clean up, but it was still cold on her bare feet after she took her shoes off. Sarah put her suitcase down on the worn out light green couch that lay between the bathroom and the door to Marcus' room. The wallpaper wasn't ugly, but it wasn't very appealing either. "Uhh," Sarah said. She had her hand behind her head. Tracy put her pack down on the couch and went to see what Sarah was looking at.

"There's only one bed," Sarah noted. Tracy wanted to give Marcus a ... _nudge in the right direction_ when she had booked the rooms, so she had booked one room with two beds and the other with a single queen sized mattress. She began to regret that decision.

"I'll sleep on the couch," Tracy offered, "I have a sleeping bag."Sarah put her hand on Tracy's shoulder making her tense up. "No, don't sleep on the couch. You're not a cover-stealer are you?" Sarah asked as an awkward joke.

"Umm, I think it'd be better if I slept on the couch," Tracy said again. Sarah removed her hand allowing Tracy to relax. "Tell you what, how about you sleep on the bed in your sleeping bag?" Sarah chirped. Tracy nodded, that would work.

"So what are we doing today?" Tracy asked as she began to unpack some of her things. She left her medications and ointments in her pack because she didn't feel like explaining them to Sarah. It was going to be difficult rooming with her.

"One of my old classmates from the academy told me about these things called contests that they do over here," Sarah said as she unpacked her things. "What's a contest?" asked Tracy in confusion. "I guess it's kinda like a pokémon battle, but without the battling," Sarah struggled to explain, "They're illegal back on the mainland, but I he told me it was loads of fun. I thought the four of us could see what it's about: there's one in an hour and a half."

"Sounds great," said Tracy halfheartedly. She had no clue what contests were; she had never even heard of contests. "I'll go tell them and then we can get some lunch," said Tracy. Sarah sighed.

"He was kind of weird at the dock don't you think?" Sarah asked in an overly-casual way. Tracy cursed Marcus' stupidity. Sarah was practically throwing herself at him and he _still_ managed to mess things up.

"Hey Trace, Sarah?" Janet called out. The walls were soundproof, but if they shouted they could hear one another through the connecting door. Sarah, in an effort to conceal her blushing from Tracy, ran to the door to open it for her.

Janet's nose looked normal: there was no evidence that it had been bleeding such a short time ago. However, her black eye had become much worse. It was massive for one, and it was a gross color for another. Tracy and Janet made eye contact.

"Jan I-" "-Trace it's okay! I've been in a fight before," Janet laughed. Marcus smiled from behind her. Tracy smiled back at him. "Let's not make this weird: you're sorry, I'm sorry, it's all good," said Janet. Tracy couldn't tell if she really meant it, but at least there was something holding them together.

"So we were thinking about checking out one of these contest things after lunch, how about it?" asked Sarah. She had her hands on her hips in a playful pose. "What is it?" asked Marcus. Sarah immediately locked on to him. "Well it's girls only so you won't actually have to do anything," Sarah said, "but it's really fun, you'll love it!" "Wait we're participating?" Tracy asked, bewildered. "Yeah, my friend said we get all dressed up in costumes and everything," Sarah giggled.

"Sounds fun," said Marcus. Sarah giggled again. Tracy and Janet had to stop themselves from rolling her eyes. "I think I'll just hang back here and take a nap," said Janet. "Oh, I guess it's just us three then," said Sarah. Sarah tossed her pokéball up in the air with a flourish.

* * *

><p>"Look it's a contest about grace and poise and all that other crap that old bag was yammering about," Tracy pleaded, "Nidoking and nincada don't scream 'poise'."<p>

Tracy and Blackjack waited outside the changing room while Sarah tried on some clothes. The wealthy patron or ,"old bag", had provided a massive wardrobe of costumes for the contest participants. One could get lost in the temple of colored thread for days and still not come out with the right outfit for the task at hand. Not that it really mattered: the audience was usually more impressed by the pokémon and their moves. In fact, many repeat visitors complained about the amount of time spent waiting for the participants to pick out a costume.

Tracy opted not to wear a costume, much to the old bag's disappointment. This was Sarah's chance to shine and she didn't want to stand in her way. Plus, there was always the chance that she would start bleeding again and she didn't want to get blood all over some other person's clothes. Though the costume was unnecessary, she did need a pokémon to compete with.

"You want me to compete?" Blackjack asked, somewhat flattered at the proposal. He wasn't totally against the idea as long as it wasn't battling.

"Look, I'm asking you to be my contest pokémon," Tracy stated. Blackjack was technically hers, but he was pretty much a wild pokémon in spite his food-grubbing, lapdog ways.

"Well, I don't see the harm. I suppose I could try it out," Blackjack mused.

"Come on Blackjack!" Tracy begged, "It'll be fun!"

"I said I would do it," Blackjack replied in a huff. Communicating without Marcus acting as a translator proved… difficult.

"If not for me, do it for Mark and Sarah," Tracy said.

"I already told you…" Blackjack gave up on the fruitless endeavor. He sighed. "Do I need to get Mark in here?"

"I'll buy you a nice meal right after we're done," Tracy promised. Blackjack perked his ears up happily, which told Tracy that he had agreed to do it. She patted him on the head affectionately as she sat down and rested her eyes for a bit. She felt a bit guilty for forcing him to endure such a humiliating situation.

"Tracy," Sarah called out. Her voice was giddy and full of excitement. Sarah twirled out of the changing room like a flashy boomerang, her costume prepared and ready. Tracy tried to put on a happy face.

When it came to size, the costume fit perfectly; when it came to personality it was a little too un-Sarah.

The top wasn't the problem: it was essentially very Sarah in its colorful - yet tasteful - design that was actually complimented by her sling. The little flower in her hair might have been overkill on some people, but on Sarah it worked to great effect. The bottom was the problem. Sarah had picked a mini-skirt, a _very_ mini-skirt – so mini, in fact, that Tracy wondered whether or not Sarah had just taken shoelace and sewn it around her waist.

"So what do you think?" Sarah asked, spinning in a circle for Tracy. She made a little pose.

It wasn't like she shouldn't show a little leg. They were nice legs; just in a different way than Janet's legs. For one they were not nearly as tone as Janet's legs, though Sarah's were probably stronger from all the running her job got her doing. Sarah's legs had just a little more fat on them, a supple fat that filled them out and gave them a bouncy quality.

Sarah had mentioned going on a diet once or twice during one of their phone conversations. Tracy thought her legs looked very Sarah, if she lost weight they just wouldn't look as good. She wanted to poke them to see if they felt like she thought they felt like. She struggled to curb the impulse to reach out and caress them. Those lovely, powerful legs of Sarah's; that lithe tissue, pale as juicy pear flesh, waiting for Marcus to press his lips against them until she squealed and blushed as he–

"Tracy are you okay?" Sarah asked. Tracy had suddenly spaced out for a long time and Sarah was beginning to worry. Tracy snapped to. "Yeah, I'm fine," she said giving Sarah a smile, "I just got distracted by something." Tracy tried not to look down at them. "So what do you think of it - is the flower too much?" Sarah asked. Tracy struggled to grasp at the right words. "Don't you think it's a little… revealing?" Sarah frowned and looked down at herself. "Maybe something a little less sluty around the uh, bottom half," Tracy said.

Sarah looked pretty upset. "I was going for sexy," Sarah stammered. "Make it a little longer so…" Tracy trailed off, trying not to picture that very _vivid_ image again. Sarah retreated back into the changing room to fix her mistake.

Tracy groaned as the embarrassing feeling subsided. It was that same feeling that she had ignored until recently; that animal hunger that she had never really recognized. With it, came the answer to a question she had been asking herself since Janet had first suggested it. She thought back to all the times she had felt the same way and wondered why she never realized it before.

"How's it now?" asked Sarah. Tracy was almost afraid to look at her. "You look adorable," Tracy said, "They will love it."

* * *

><p><span>Author's Note:<span>

I've been getting really lazy with this story, sorry. I realize this whole story arc is a bit human-centered, but there'll be some pokemon stuff eventually. "Unrecognized Expression" just got put up and I'm already getting distracted with writing another 20-chapter story. Hopefully that one will be easier to write since the plot is much less convoluted.


	62. 58 :::: Angioplasty

_Angioplasty_

"You can come over now," Tracy said through the door. Marcus entered into Tracy's and Sarah's room, carefully closing the door behind him. Blackjack eyed him as he lazily swished his tail across the edge of the bed. "She should be gone for awhile while she's picking out a dress," Tracy said. Marcus adjusted his tie and sighed. "I don't see why we're doing this now. It's a dinner date and it's barely past lunchtime," he grumbled.

"Do you want to keep your girlfriend or not?" Tracy asked. Marcus winced at the word "girlfriend". Tracy rolled her eyes at his childishness. She made a circular motion with her finger and said, "Turn around." Marcus obliged begrudgingly.

He looked pretty good in his rented suit, much better than he did in his training clothes anyways. The suit made gave his muscles more bulk and at the same time it made him look chivalrous and gentle. Maybe it was just because it made him look much more mature.

"Mmm, she's going to love it," Tracy said as she took him in. "You really pull it off," added Blackjack. "He certainly does," Tracy said. "Can I take this stupid suit off then, this thing is so…" Marcus trailed off as his eyes drifted away from Blackjack. "Why is there only one bed?" Marcus asked with a concerned tone. Blackjack perked his ears up, waiting for an amusing show.

"Weeellll back when I booked this place I thought that maybe you and Sarah might enjoy a little _personal_ time together," Tracy said, pretty embarrassed by her brazenness. It sounded less creepy and awkward on paper than it did in real life – trying to get the two together wasn't one of her better decisions.

"She was trying to help get you laid," Blackjack laughed.

Marcus went red in the face. "I don't need any help," he said defensively. Blackjack and Tracy glanced at each other and didn't say anything. Marcus was starting to get ticked off. "So there's only one bed, but there's two people," Marcus noted, trying to protect his dignity. "She insisted," Tracy said quickly. "Tracy!" Marcus interjected. "Calm down, I'm in a sleeping bag so it's not like we're actually…" Tracy thought it might not be best to finish that sentence.

"Sarah's not… like you, is she?" Marcus asked. "What? Into girls," Tracy said. The words were coming out easier now. "She might be, you never know," Tracy teased.

Blackjack couldn't help but chuckle at how flustered he was. "It looks like someone is a little jealous," Blackjack ribbed. "It's not jealousy if your lesbian friend gets in a bed with your girlfriend," Marcus snapped back.

"Okay, A: I'm not a lesbian. B: I thought you said she wasn't your 'girlfriend'. And C: I have standards. I don't go around screwing everything with legs," Tracy said.

"That would be Janet," Blackjack said.

Marcus couldn't help laughing at Blackjack's comment, easing the tension considerably. "You're a guy and you have female friends," Tracy pointed out with a chuckle. "No I don't," Marcus responded. "Hel-lo," Tracy said despondently. She pointed to herself. "Oh, well you don't really count. You're practically a guy," Marcus said nonchalantly. The second after the words came out he realized that they might be taken poorly. "Smooth move," said Blackjack. Tracy scowled at him.

"I didn't- you know what I meant," Marcus backpedaled, "You're a girl, but you're not really, uh… damn –""- I think it's time to be quiet," Blackjack said, ear twitching lazily. "I know what you meant to say," said Tracy. She sounded a little hurt. Marcus felt like a huge idiot again. Didn't he promise to be more caring for his friends?

"Lately I feel like a guy sometimes," Tracy admitted. "You do?" asked Marcus, sounding surprisingly sympathetic. "I think I'm still getting used to being me," Tracy said. She smiled at Marcus."It's kinda hard to explain, but it's a different feeling when I see a hot girl versus a hot guy – that's probably one of the reasons why I didn't know for so long," Tracy said. She adjusted his tie for him. "We have time," said Marcus sitting down on the bed. Maybe he was just a nicer guy when he put a suit on.

"Well, when I see a hot guy the feeling's slow and it's like I want him to notice me and like me and I want him to ask me out and stuff," Tracy said. She bit her lip nervously and watched Marcus' eyes. "But when I see a good-looking girl the feeling's so… so fast and I feel so angry and aggressive and it scares me," Tracy said, "Is that how guy's feel all the time?" Marcus shrugged. "Yeah, I guess with the aggression part – I don't really have a benchmark to set it against," he told her. She seemed very relieved.

Blackjack's tail swished through the air. "Aren't you supposed to be preparing for a date?" he yawned. "Yeah, can I take this off now?" asked Marcus. "Go ahead, but make sure you don't wrinkle it," Tracy said. Tracy checked her phone for messages from Sarah and sighed as she read one.

Marcus came back in his trainer clothes. "Bad news, looks like Sarah's going to be a little delayed," said Tracy. "Well, it's not like we're going anytime soon," Marcus replied. Tracy scratched behind Blackjack's ears.

"Are you ready to dance?" Tracy asked. Marcus smiled at her sheepishly. "I guess, I mean Mom taught me a few things," Marcus said. "You know who taught your mother…" Blackjack said, "your father. He was a master of dance." It was rare for Blackjack to talk about the old days.

"Really? Mom said he sucked," Marcus said. "But he sucked gracefully," Blackjack retorted, "and that's all that really matters."

"We should have a little refresher so you don't look like a complete moron out there," Tracy said. She stood up and held her hands up in a dancing position. Tracy quickly put them back down, realizing she'd have to touch him. "Um, maybe we should get Janet in here," said Tracy.

"Well, I don't think she'd be in the mood for dancing right now: she has a pretty nasty hangover," Marcus said. "Oh," Tracy mumbled. "She came back around one, right?" Blackjack asked. "I dunno, I was asleep," said Marcus. "Well, as long as she stays out of trouble…" said Tracy, brushing a stray strand of hair out of her face.

Tracy got into the dancing pose again. "We can just shadow dance," said Tracy. She made a mental note to name an attack "Shadow Dance"; although it would probably be a move for Blackjack, so she'd never get to use it.

Marcus moved his hands so that they hovered just next to hers. "Too close," Tracy muttered. He moved back a little and she smiled.

"Sarah doesn't really know how to dance, so you're going to have to lead her," Tracy told him. They began to step slowly as Blackjack kept beat with his tail. "If both of us don't know how to dance then why are we going?" asked Marcus. Tracy rolled her eyes. "Because, she's the kind of girl who wants to be swept off her feet," Tracy chastised. "She doesn't seem like it," Marcus said. They spun.

"You're joking right?" Blackjack said. "Hey, nobody asked you," said Marcus. Blackjack smiled and went back to keeping time. "I guess you don't seem like the kind of person who'd be into dancing either though," he commented, "Seems like it would be a little too 'girly' for you." "I learned it to help me do better in pokémon battles," Tracy said defensively. Marcus gave her a look that said, "Whatever." Tracy shot him the same look back. They spun again.

"Move your hand up higher. What are you trying to do, play grab ass?" Tracy teased. Marcus blushed and moved his hand higher. "Too high, you're in boob territory," Blackjack said. "This is so stressful," Marcus said. He watched his hand to make sure it stayed in the middle. "It's better to be a little high than a little low," Tracy informed him, "You're the lead. Just act confident and she'll melt into your arms, Mark." She smiled deviously. "Be sure to call ahead if you two want a little _personal_ time," Tracy said. "You've been such a pervy Jan lately," Marcus said. "Woah! I just meant talking, what did you think I meant?" Tracy smiled sarcastically. Marcus rolled his eyes at her.

They danced for a long time and Marcus' confidence grew. He was a decent dancer, not stellar, but decent enough to hold his own. "Hey Tracy," Marcus said, "When you get a girlfriend –""—IF I get a girlfriend," Tracy interjected. "…Who would be the lead dancer?" he asked. She thought about it for a second. "I don't know," she answered truthfully. "Is it something you'd decide beforehand, like one of you is always the guy and the other is girl or is there some kind of system?" he asked. "I don't know," said Tracy. She was starting to look a bit uncomfortable. "I think you're pushing the boundaries of offensive there," Blackjack warned him.

"They're good questions," Tracy said, "I guess I'll have to figure that out if I get one." Tracy gave him a quick smile and stared into his eyes. Tracy forgot to move her foot. Marcus accidentally stepped on it and sent her crashing to the ground.

"Ah!"Tracy went to stand up and suddenly, she grimaced. "Oh, did I hurt you?" Marcus asked. He went to lend her a hand but quickly retracted it after remembering how she felt about touching. "Nah, just my ego," Tracy said, "Just don't do that with Sarah, okay?"

"Mark," a haggard voice groaned from the other room. "Jan's awake," Marcus said. It looked like the dance was finished. "Go be with her," Tracy said. "Thanks for the dance tips," Marcus said. "Hey, what are friends for," she smiled. He left the room and the door shut with a soft click.

Tracy turned towards Blackjack. "Well that went well," she sighed, scratching him behind the ears. Blackjack sniffed the air curiously. "Blackjack," Tracy said, letting her hair flop on the bed, "Do you think you could watch Janet tonight, like not spying or anything, but just watch her to make sure she's safe?" Blackjack looked at her and said, "Yes" with his eyes as best he could.

"Tracy I'm back!" Sarah said as she entered the hotel room. Her hair looked so nice and soft with her new haircut. "How'd the hunt for a dress go?" Tracy asked. "Fabulously, want to see it?" Sarah asked. Sarah pulled the dress out an showed it to Tracy. "Go put it on and we'll paint up your face, you're going to have to make a cardiac arrest," Tracy said. Sarah rolled her eyes at the joke and giggled as she thought about their date.

Blackjack sighed as time heaved its way forward.


	63. 59 :::: Tango

_Tango_

Tracy grunted and rested her head on the door as she heard their laughter grow faint. She dead bolted the door, Marcus couldn't get through a dead bolt, could he? It wasn't like he would be trying anything around Sarah anyways, but still… she didn't want anyone seeing her like this.

Tracy had always been sensitive about her body; getting shot had only exacerbated her self-consciousness, especially when it came to her wound.

She hissed as she eased herself into the bed. The shard! That damn shard! It was always present, sometimes a splinter and sometimes a migraine in her chest. Marcus had inadvertently flared it up earlier during their little practice session. She bit down on the pillow as a few beads of glistening sweat leaked out of the pores in her forehead. "Arceus why?" she moaned.

She had to get the shard out, she couldn't live like this anymore.

* * *

><p>Sarah smiled as Marcus pulled her seat out for her. It was a stupid thing to be impressed by when she thought about it, but the act still carried that chivalrous air that she loved so much. He looked like such a gentleman with his dress clothes on. She opened the menu as he sat down.<p>

"_Oh, wow…"_ thought Sarah as she stared at the menu. She felt so unrefined as she scanned through the list, desperately looking for a dish that she knew. She recognized one or two, but she wouldn't want to eat them. She glanced over at the prices and felt her heart stop. People paid that much for food? It actually made her a little angry thinking about it. She looked up at Marcus. He looked seasick; evidently, he wasn't very fond of the prices either.

She buried her face in the menu so he wouldn't catch her staring at him like a moron. Arceus, this restaurant was fancy! She glanced over the edge of the balcony they were on. The restaurant consisted of two parts, the dancing floor and the eating area above it. It seemed like there were a hundred dancers all swaying back and forth with the violinist's bow. They all looked so graceful, could she pull that off? What if she tripped or bumped into somebody or stepped on his toes or…

Sarah began to hyper-ventilate: maybe it was time to take another crack at the menu.

She sat and stared at it. Who was going to be paying? Was she supposed to pay for her own meal or let him pay? Would paying for her own meal insult him? She scanned the menu again nervously. She didn't want to order something expensive in case he was paying and she didn't want to order something inexpensive if she was paying, lest she look cheap. She was still on a diet so ordering something big was out of the question, but if she ordered a salad or something small like that, then she'd be hungry all night long. She began to panic as the waiter approached. She wasn't ready!

"Hello and what will we be having this evening?" he asked. She had a few seconds to pick a food while Marcus ordered. None of it was right, she couldn't pick one. "And you madam?" the waiter asked her. "Um… uh, I think I'll have a salad –no! – I mean I'll have the… um, ah –"" – Why don't you just have what I'm having?" Marcus suggested. Sarah nodded her head, relieved to have the pressure taken off of her. "Would you care to take a look at our wine list sir?" the waiter asked Marcus. "Yeah I guess," Marcus said. He looked like he had just come out of the dentist's office.

Marcus stared at the wine list with the vacant stare that she had seen on the faces of so many criminals. That look of confusion mixed with a knowledge of impending doom that graced everyone's face at least once in their lives. "That one," said Marcus pointing nervously. The waiter narrowed his eyes. "Excellent choice sir!" he said, with a tone that clearly told him that he was unimpressed with his choice, "I'll have your meals in a moment."

"So how's life treating you Sarah?" asked Marcus. She looked up at him. "The department's been a little undermanned so I've been working pretty much non-stop; the riots have been a real…" she stopped herself. Sarah had never been very good at romantic relationships: she tended to scare the kind of guys she usually went after with her up-frontness. She really, _really_ wanted this one to work out… and to do that she'd have to look a little more feminine. Talking about bashing some heads in with a club wasn't exactly the pinnacle of ladylike.

She dismissed the previous story with a wave of her un-sling-bound hand. "Besides all that, Sam finally got together with Kevin after her bad breakup," Sarah said. "Sam's that lab assistant right?" Marcus asked. Sarah was amazed that he actually remembered something like that, it made her wonder how many other things he had picked up. "Yup, and Kev is part of the local security – you probably never saw him," Sarah said.

The waiter arrived with their wine and poured them each a glass. Sarah thanked the waiter even though he seemed put upon to be serving them; the service was really fast here. She swirled the crimson liquid casually and took a small sip. Sarah tended to avoid drinking since she knew she had a pretty low tolerance for alcohol. That and she wanted to avoid addictive substances at all cost.

The violinist continued to pull at his strings as they talked about little stuff: funny things he had seen on the road and her dad's latest research. Once their meals arrived the conversation pretty much stopped.

It was a delicious meal, much less rich than she had expected it to be. She felt pretty guilty with each bite though, since she knew she was wrecking her diet. All this food and wine would set her back a week for sure. She was growing tired of being on a diet, especially since he didn't even seem to notice at all. She sighed and looked at her plate. He probably wouldn't notice if she didn't clean her plate.

"Do you not like it?" Marcus asked. What was with him being such a detective all of a sudden? "Nothing, I'm just on a diet," Sarah told him.

She felt a little dirty fishing for compliments, but she wanted to know if he actually noticed. "Really?" Marcus asked in disbelief. Sarah tried not to get upset, but it was hard not to be when she had put herself through so much suffering only to get nothing out of it. "I-I haven't been at it for long enough," Sarah squeaked, trying to save some of her dignity.

"Why would _you_ need to be on a diet anyways?" Marcus commented casually. Sarah's spirit suddenly lifted. It was amazing how quickly he was able to fix a mistake he never even knew about. It would have sounded cheesy from any other guy's mouth, but she knew Marcus was always completely honest with her. That's what made him so attractive. Sarah smiled happily at him as she finished her meal.

"How was it?" asked Marcus. "It was wonderful," said Sarah. She was starting to feel the alcohol affecting her brain. "Shall we dance?" he asked, taking hold of her hand. Her heart began to quicken in her chest.

"I hope there's enough room for us," Marcus whispered as he led her down the stairs. Sarah took her injured arm out of her sling gingerly: it was almost totally healed anyways, what was the harm in an hour or two? Sarah was far more worried about how she'd look to him. She wanted this to be a wonderful moment that they'd both remember.

The dance started out well enough. Even though they both spent most of their time looking at their feet, the brief moments when their eyes met made the rest of the world insignificant. The hundred sweeping dancers became blurs to the boy and the rookie cop with an injured arm; which is probably why, five minutes into their dancing, they promptly bumped into an old couple and knocked them over. The music stopped.

"I'm so sorry," Sarah and Marcus each repeated as they helped them to their feet. The old couple brushed it off and walked away in a huff. "Excuse me," their waiter groaned, "If you cannot dance, then I would ask that you do not do so." Marcus and Sarah slunk back to their table, thoroughly embarrassed as the other dancers stared them down. The music picked back up and they started dancing again.

"Let's get out of here," Sarah said, her cheeks burning up. Marcus' eyes nearly popped out of his head when he saw the bill, but he reminded himself what it was for and dug deep so they could just leave before anything else could happen. They slipped out into the night as quickly as they could muster.

"Well that could have gone better," Marcus muttered as they walked towards their hotel. It was a lovely evening for a stroll. The moon was big and bright, the temperature was warm and comfortable, the sea breeze filled the air with a lovely refreshing scent that was perfect for a romantic evening. "The night's still young," Sarah pointed out, "Why don't we just hang out on the beach?" She wouldn't feel so much pressure on the beach. Marcus smiled at her and nodded.

The beach was surprisingly empty for such a lovely evening. The golden sand that stretched along the shore with a gentle slope was unmarred by the footprints of another. Waves lapped softly at the land, breathing rhythmically like a pokémon in its sleep. It was as if Arceus had conspired to make the night perfect just for them.

They lay down next to each other in the cool sand, not really caring about ruining their apparel after paying for their dinner. They were just going to enjoy being together.

Sarah nervously traced circles with her fingers in the sand. She wanted to snuggle up against him, but she couldn't scare him off now. She had to take it nice and slow otherwise this would end up falling apart. She inched her hand closer to his, cautiously approaching his clasp like it was a skittish wild pokémon. She just barely brushed up against his skin. He bolted upright. Had she gone too quickly?

"Hey, want to see Laura?" he exclaimed, holding out her pokéball. Sarah stood and pulled out her own pokéball, feeling a little less weird now that he had pulled his out. "I would love to," she said.

"Go Laura!" he shouted. Laura emerged with a bright flash. The arcanine eyed Sarah suspiciously and sniffed her. She recognized the scent, but couldn't remember where it was from. "Hello Laura, you've grown so much," Sarah told her as she rubbed her behind the ears. "I've got your brother. Would you like to see him?" Sarah asked cutely.

"Go Arsonik!" Sarah said. The slightly larger arcanine wagged its tail when it saw the other arcanine. They immediately began sniffing each other excitedly. The two grinned as they watched their pokémon begin to wrestle playfully.

"Arsenic… you named him after poison?" Marcus chuckled. Sarah let out an embarrassed groan. "I let Dad name him. He thought it was pretty clever, but you know, he's pretty much a huge dork," Sarah laughed. "That's why you always let your mom name your pokémon," Marcus laughed. Sarah's face became tight and uncomfortable. Marcus went to reach for his pocket watch, but he had left it back at the hotel.

"I didn't mean to…" Marcus said

"It's okay," Sarah assured him. The two arcanine ran around on the beach in the glimmering moonlight.

"It's nice to talk about it," Sarah said, "especially with someone who can understand." Marcus held her hand and gently squeezed it. She blushed in spite of herself.

"When?" Marcus asked, trying to be the guy he needed to be.

"I was ten - heart attack," Sarah said hastily, "Mom … had problems with drugs."

"Oh Sarah, I'm so sorry," Marcus whispered. He squeezed her hand tighter.

"She never hurt me or dad or anything like that. She was… such an amazing person. Even when she was on her- the drugs… she was always so gentle and kind. This may sound kind of weird, but I think I liked her better when she was on them. Whenever she would try to quit she'd lie in her room all day. Dad never let me see her, but I missed being with her Marcus. She looked so… so ashamed when I went in, like she was afraid that I wouldn't love her anymore. Her whole body was shaking, I felt so scared," Sarah said.

Marcus put his arm around her and she smiled for a brief second.

"I was asleep when she finally…" Sarah said. She felt his hand gently squeeze her shoulder reassuringly. "Once everyone at school learned about it, rumors started to go around about me. I was really glad when we moved," Sarah said. She had to restrain her tears. The situation was already weird enough for him as it was and she didn't want to ruin the evening.

"Yeah, there were a lot of rumors about my mom going around too," Marcus told her. Sarah sighed. "At least I got the chance to say goodbye; you didn't even get the chance to really know your dad," Sarah said. She straightened out her dress as she thought. "I can't imagine what Tracy's going through right now," Sarah said. Marcus let her hand go since she seemed to be alright now. "It's been pretty rough," Marcus understated, "I think she'll feel better after we win the badge."

They watched their pokémon play in the surf for several silent minutes. "You wanna have a battle?" Marcus asked awkwardly. Sarah knew he was trying to change the subject; she was just as uncomfortable discussing this heavy stuff as he was. _"Great work Sarah! Let's kill the romance by bringing up Mom!"_ she yelled at herself in her head. She should have never brought her mother up in the first place, it was just a bad idea. She had probably ruined her only chance to really be with him. Why was she so bad at this?

"Sarah?" Marcus asked nervously. "Yeah," Sarah said. This was her night and she wasn't going to let the past keep her from having a good time. "Great!" Marcus beamed, "Laura –" "- Wait," Sarah said. The two arcanine ran to their masters with playful energy. "Let's not battle," Sarah said. Sarah never really understood the appeal of pokémon battles. To her, whole battle system seemed geared towards making people mistreat pokémon rather than strengthening the trainer-pokémon bond. Sure she respected Marcus and Tracy, but most of the trainers she saw passed through the lab with absolutely no care for the life they were receiving.

"How about we have a race instead, see who's got the faster arcanine?" Sarah suggested. Marcus patted Laura's muzzle and nodded. "Well, if you don't want to battle then I guess –" " – Ready set go!" shouted Sarah with a giggle. Her arcanine took off at her command.

Marcus scrambled onto Laura and ordered her to run. He nearly flew off her back as she burst forward with all the strength in her lean muscles. Gripping into Laura's fur, he caught up to Sarah and her arcanine as he began to get used to the motions.

"You cheater!" Marcus teased as they kicked a wide trail of wet sand up behind them.

"You can't prove anything!" Sarah shouted back. They both laughed as they continued to race along the dark water's edge.

All in all, they were pretty evenly matched in terms of speed. They spent their time close to each other, Sarah barely ahead of Marcus or Marcus barely ahead of Sarah. Each thought the other's arcanine would have to get tired soon, but the dogs seemed to have and infinite amount of stamina as their enthusiastic saliva flew off their tongues with each step.

"Hey," Marcus said, as Sarah began to steer Nic closer. Her leg suddenly lashed out and hit him in the ribs. There was a moment of panic as he began to fall off the speeding pokémon, but his hands naturally clenched Laura's fur. "Are you insane?" Marcus shouted at her as he climbed his way back into a balanced position.

Sarah giggled like crazy. "Maybe!" She said coyly. Marcus smiled mischievously. If she was going to play games then he was going to too. He went in to kick her, but she pulled to the side and he almost lost his balance. Sarah giggled hysterically at his expression. He went in for another kick but she dodged again. It was too easy.

"You're going to have to try harder th-" Sarah was caught off by a third kick to the arm. What fur she managed to get a hold of came out in a large tuft and Sarah was sent crashing to the sandy ground.

"Slow!" Marcus shouted as he watched the riderless arcanine beside him slow. He didn't mean to hurt Sarah! He hopped off of Laura and quickly ran over to the rookie cop lying face-down in the sand.

"Sarah, I'm so sorry…Sarah," Marcus said. Sarah didn't seem to be moving. "Sarah?" Marcus said.

The boy had a moment of panic. If the boy were to make a list of things he did not want to be, 'manslaughterer' would have made the top thousand. He decided that he ought to at least check for a pulse so that he would be able say he did something for her. He reached down and gave the 'could-be-a-corpse' girl's neck a soft poke. He cried out in surprise as she grappled her arm around his neck and drew him into a kiss.

He pulled away for a second and she pouted seductively. He laughed and she smiled in an inviting way. They kissed again and again, lips passionately crashing together like the waves of the ocean.

000

Tracy sighed in frustration as her hair got in the way of the coolness she so desperately needed. The twin pain of the shard and disappointment still crept warily through her exhausted body. She had been so close; so very close to getting the damn thing out. But she couldn't bear the pain.

She just wanted to get some sleep. Cleaning up all the blood had been difficult given the amount that managed to get past the towel, hopefully the night had gone well enough for Sarah not to notice the smell… Tracy growled in frustration. Why did they have to make the bathroom lights so bright? She rolled her head so that the toilet blocked the light and closed her eyes again. Her hair was sweaty and gross and laying next to the toilet would only make it worse, but she needed sleep.

Nothing: sweet rest would not come. Each of her slow heartbeats was punctuated with a tiny pinprick of pain in her wound. She glanced over to her side. A small bottle of bleach, undoubtedly left behind by one of the maids, sat temptingly within reach. Tracy was incredibly thirsty.

She just wanted to get some sleep. Mark… he could take care of Jerry, Jane and Blackjack. Her style of battling was a bit unorthodox, but they were strong pokémon and they would eventually adapt. He could battle alongside Sarah for the Chuck's badge, wouldn't that be romantic? She could picture Mark proposing to Sarah as they battled each other in the final round of the tournament.

Tracy sat up and unscrewed the cap slowly. The intoxicating aroma of cleanliness filled her nostrils.

Maybe Janet would get her act together. Janet thought that she liked Paul; maybe he'd finally get his chance to be with her if that confusion was gone. It wasn't like anyone would be hurt, after all, her family was already dead.

She put her lips over the edge of the bottle slowly getting a small taste of the liquid that clung to the sides of the bottle: the liquid she had used to clean her own blood up. It didn't taste good, but it didn't burn as much as she thought it would. She pulled the bottle away.

This wasn't a good spot. It would be embarrassing to die by the toilet: the shower was much more private and dignified. Plus, if she died here it would be inconvenient for Sarah when she went to try and move her body. She wouldn't want Sarah finding her body until the next morning anyways.

Tracy got on her feet. She could walk despite her weakness. She was more concerned about losing balance and spilling the bleach than anything else. She managed to stagger her way over to the shower without spilling. Tracy prepared to enter, but she paused.

Sarah would be sweaty from the dancing… what if she wanted to take a shower? Tracy couldn't risk ruining things for Mark and Sarah. Besides, she wanted to know how the date went. Now wasn't a good time to kill herself, she needed to do it when she wouldn't be getting in anybody's way. Tracy heard soft talking outside. They were back!

She quickly put the bleach back where it belonged and staggered towards her bed. "Goodnight," a muffled voice said. Tracy froze as Sarah softly opened the door.

"Oh, you're still up?" Sarah said. Her dress was filthy and her hair was a sand covered mess, but she wore a glowing smile. "Yeah, I couldn't sleep so I decided to watch some of the Rub- I mean, _Falkner_, battles," Tracy said. Sarah eyed her, still wearing that euphoric half-smile.

"You okay: you look a little sick?" Sarah asked.

"I think I got a little food poisoning," Tracy said hastily, "What about you? I don't think that dress is going back." Sarah blushed and looked down at her dress.

"N-nothing happened," she blurted out, "It's just a little – uh… I need to take a shower." Sarah bolted into the bathroom. Tracy hoped she wouldn't notice the smell. She was glad she hadn't killed herself – that would have been pretty embarrassing…

"_Arceus what's wrong with me!" _ Tracy screamed in her head. She could still taste the bleach on her lips: the dark thoughts were beginning to come back. It was discouraging, she thought the worst was behind her, but all her progress seemed to get destroyed by the littlest things. She had to stay above it, at least while Sarah was around.

"Trace!" Marcus said in an oddly shaky voice. He knocked lightly on the door. "Trace!" He said louder. Tracy moved as quickly as she could to the door and opened it up for him. It sounded like an emergency.

He looked dazed and shocked as he rushed into their room. "What's up lover boy?" Tracy teased.

"I went to take a shower and… Jan was… can I sleep in your room?" Marcus asked. "I guess," said Tracy. He seemed glad.

"So how'd the date go, did you sweep her off her feet?" Tracy asked, lightly elbowing him in the ribs. Marcus tried to conceal his grin. "More or less," he said quietly. Tracy looked him over. He seemed unusually happy; the date must have gone well.

The shower water stopped. "Tracy, can you get me my pajamas?" Sarah hummed. "Mark is here," Tracy said as she pushed Sarah's clothes through the door. She resisted the urge to peek.

"Hee hee! Good one Tr–" Sarah stopped as she spotted Marcus. Tracy saw the way the two blushed and smiled at each other and rolled her eyes. There was a long silence as they stared at one another, Sarah giggling every once and a while. "Um, is it okay if I borrow a pair of jeans and a shirt: I left my stuff in the other room?" Marcus asked, mercifully killing the awkward situation.

"Oh, I'll just go get your stuff," said Sarah, rushing into the other room. "Wait, don't go -" Sarah came running back out, face bright red. "Wow," Sarah gasped, "Your cousin is very… wow."

* * *

><p><span>Author's Note:<span>

A big fat APRIL FOOLS to everyone who thought that I'd end this story with Micheal Jackson and Tracy the serial killer.


	64. 60 :::: Escapement

_Escapement_

It was a lovely afternoon. The scent of fresh flowers mixed with the sea breeze and filled the household with a rejuvenating sweetness and joy. The lady hummed as she arranged the flowers, while her brother-in-law talked with his wife on the phone. She thought it sad that such delicate and beautiful things should be a chariot for ugliness, but carried on with her humming as she clipped their stems.

"EEEWWWWW!" someone screeched.

The awkwardly lanky teenager flew into the kitchen clutching her hair. "Mark got sunblock in my hair!" she yelled, gesticulating madly. A little boy came running in after her, sunblock all over his hands.

"I did not!" he moaned. The lady set the flowers down with a sigh and stooped down to his level. "Marcus Green, how many times have I told you to be nice to girls," the lady scolded. "But moooom, I didn't do anything," Marcus insisted. It was hard for her not to spoil him.

"Let's have a look Janet," said the lady. She inspected her niece's head for errant lotion. "I just put water on her head, it was a joke," Marcus whined. It seemed as though he was telling the truth, the lady couldn't find a drop of lotion. The lady let her niece go. "I knew that the whole time," said Janet. "Marcus go apologize to your cousin right now," the lady told him sternly.

"Oh come now Lauren," said Stephen setting down the phone, "it was just in good fun, wasn't it Marcus?" He laughed in a deep, pirate-esque way.

"Yeah!" Marcus laughed. Janet put her hands on her hips and pouted. "Boys are so immature," she scoffed.

This made both Stephen and the lady laugh, to the confusion of the children.

"I'll race you to the beach, Jan!" Marcus shouted enthusiastically, jumping up and down. He was at that age where everything was about showing off, an age that would be especially troubling for someone like him. "You're on!" Janet said, forgetting his slight. She giggled as she rushed towards the door.

"Now hold on a minute," said the lady grabbing him by the shoulder, "You're not going out with that are you?" Marcus pulled the pocket watch out of his bathing suit's only pocket. "Why can't I take it?" Marcus whined.

"Because salt water is an ionic compound that…" Janet began. The lady laughed again as her niece explained the nuances of the chemical processes involved in corrosion. She had never really liked science, but her nieces had a love for it so she tolerated it for their sake. "…which is why the reaction's activation energy is –" " – that's enough now Janet, I think he gets it," the lady said with a smile, taking the watch from her son. She paused to rub the lettering before placing it hastily in her pocket.

Marcus looked like he was going to complain, but Janet suddenly rushed out the door, starting their race. The adults could hear their wild giggling as they ran.

"They grow up so fast," commented Stephen idly, sipping his coffee. The lady closed the door the children had left open and sat down beside her brother-in-law. "She's very intelligent," said the lady. "Her teacher wants to move her to the advanced class" Stephen declared proudly, "She wants to be a biologist."

He played with a loose button and set his coffee down. "I'm just glad her body's biology isn't as fast as her mind is," said Stephen with a chuckle, "Dealing with Elizabeth has been enough trouble as it is." He straightened his suit out. "Hormones," the lady chuckled, "soon it'll be boys, boys, boys."

Stephen sighed and looked at the coffee. "You sure you don't want to come?" Stephen asked, "I know a funeral's not the most exciting place to be, but still…" The lady rubbed the watch in her pocket and sighed herself.

"No, I wouldn't really feel comfortable there," she said as she stood to fetch one of the bouquets for him, "besides, who'd watch over the kids?"

Stephen opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something, but he chose not to say anything. She sat back down and smiled at him, handing him the flowers.

"Was that watch…" Stephen began. He stopped when he saw her expression change. "So it was his," Stephen said quietly. The lady nodded, bringing her hand down to within an inch of the watch. It had been a while since she had had it in her pocket, now it was Marcus' to protect and cherish. She feared she never let it go if she touched it right now.

"So how's the new business?" Stephen asked, trying to change the topic. "Oh, it's starting to pick up," said the lady, "It feels great working for yourself, even if you have to work a little longer and harder." Stephen laughed with her.

"It's nice to be using those skills to help people," she added off-hand with an extra chuckle. The lady stood up and went over to the other bouquet so Stephen wouldn't be able to see her face. "I miss him too," said Stephen quietly. The lady pretended to arrange the flowers while Stephen contemplated how to say what he needed to say.

"Lauren, have you ever considered dating again?" he asked gently. The lady shook her head quickly. "I couldn't do that to Derek," she whispered.

"What about Mark? He needs a father, Lauren," Stephen said, trying to be as gentle as possible. "No," the lady repeated to herself as she rearranged the flowers again. Stephen opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off.

"I still have dreams about him," the lady said, "I still dream about our first time together. I'm crying, but I'm so happy because he's crying too, and he smells like shit, but I don't care because I just want him to keep holding me and I can feel him sobbing and I, and I realize it's for me. He's sobbing for me. I'm so happy and so sad and so scared and he's putting his lips against mine and I don't understand why, but it makes me happy when he does and he smells so Derek and his tongue is so warm and wet and then, then, I suddenly wake up and, and he isn't... he isn't -"

" -Lauren," said Stephen, trying not to cry, "He wouldn't want you to be alone." The lady picked up a kitchen knife and weighed it in her hand as she rubbed the watch in her pocket.

"Get out," she told him sternly.

"Lauren –" The lady whipped around and threw the knife at Stephen. It left a tiny slice on his earlobe and embedded itself in the wall. She had narrowly missed his head, or rather, landed a hit exactly where she wanted to. "You call yourself his brother!" she shouted, shaking in rage, "get out of his damn house!"

"Derek … would understand you not wanting to be lonely," Stephen said quietly. She shoved the other bouquet into his arms and marched him to the front door. Stephen looked at her sadly. "We can talk about this at dinner," he said quietly as he left to go to his parent's funeral.

The lady slammed the front door in his face and locked the door. She slid back against it and began to shake as she heard his footsteps fade away.

The lady stood up and went back to the kitchen, retrieving the knife out of the wall so she could peel potatoes for tonight's meal. She washed it seven times in scalding-hot water: she wouldn't want to get any germs in the food.

She peeled the potatoes quickly, breathing hard as the skins flew off in neat spirals. She began to rub the watch faster and faster, trying not to cry. One of the potatoes fell on the floor with a dull thud. She looked at it, her grip tight on the pocket watch, her body trembling.

She lifted it with her mind and sent it hurtling towards the wall. It splattered, sending tiny pieces flying everywhere.

She reached out with her mind through the whole household, locking all the doors and closing all the windows, then sent another potato hurtling towards the wall.

"Derek, you fucking bastard!" she screamed. Her knuckles grew white as she squeezed the watch.  
>"I was supposed to go!" She made the knife float in midair for a second, before it sending it to skewer another potato; pinning it to the wall like a butterfly in a jeweled case.<br>"I was supposed to be there with you!" The lights began to flicker and dim and the one light in the kitchen that never seemed to work shattered with a loud pop. Everything in the house began to shake and shudder as she latched onto each and every item with her terrible invisible chains.

"I wanted to be there ... with you," the lady whispered to herself as she collapsed to her knees in exhaustion.

The lady could barely feel her heart beating in her chest and she felt like she was going to puke. Her body wasn't as strong as it used to be.

She weakly crawled her way over to the mess and began to clean it up, still clutching the watch. She couldn't let Markie see what had happened.

The lady slipped away to the bathroom and turned on the faucet. The lady didn't need pictures to keep him in her heart. She formed his face in water, something she didn't do often because of how it made her feel. She touched its cheek gently with the back of her hand. In life, she had always hated it when he touched her, but now she yearned for his embrace. That idiot...

The illusion rippled as her strength waned, then dropped noisily to the bathroom floor. She cried silently in the dark, rubbing the watch and imagining he was there to hold her.

She picked herself off the ground and dried her tears. This was no time for childish outbursts, she was a mother now. Mothers couldn't cry, not while their children were around. She had to be there for Markie.

"Aunt Lauren?" a quivering voice called out.

The lady had a moment of panic. Had she been seen by her niece? Horror welled from within her bones as she imagined the scene through innocent little Janet's eyes. Little Janet would look at her like some monster: like they had looked at her. The lady rushed to her niece as fast as her weakened legs would carry her. When she arrived in the kitchen she saw Janet looking apprehensively at her son. She knew what had happened, but she tried to deny it.

"Mark –Mark just…" Janet stammered. Her hair was still dripping. "I'm sorry Mom," Marcus whispered. "He opened the door… without touching – that's not possible, that's not possible" Janet babbled. The lady could see the confusion in her eyes.

"Janet," said the lady, giving her niece a hug to try to calm her down, "Mark is different from you and _me_." It hurt to lie so easily.

"D-different?" asked Janet. "Yes, Marcus is - Mark is special," explained the lady, "Marcus is psychic".

She saw her niece's face scrunch up in confusion. "Dad says psychics on TV are fake," said Janet incredulously. "Yes, most of them are," said the lady. Janet sat down and closed her eyes in thought.

"Marcus… Markie would never hurt anybody," said the lady intrepidly.

"It's not very strong, I can't really do much," Marcus squeaked hastily. The lady was thankful that he didn't have to bear the burden of true power. Janet turned to look at him, fear deep within her eyes.

With a single silent glance, Lauren saw her little boy's heart shatter.


	65. LXI ::: Heavy water

_D_2_O_

**What she said was no lie, but out of context - I mean, you'd have to know the whole story to understand why - whatever, never mind. It's pointless trying to justify something like that right now. When they see the whole picture, they'll understand...  
><strong>

* * *

><p>We were left to our own devices, as we always were when we were finished with a session of training. <em>He<em> seemed extra happy today, males always are when they find a female companion. At least until she hurts him. Or he hurts her.

I decided to tell Jane about Charles, it's only right. Since he died, the others have been asking "Where's Charles?" "Where's Charles?" it's been driving me insane. "Where's Charles?" If anyone has the right to tell them it's Jane. Hey that rhymed.

"Blackjack!" barked Laura. They look like a pack of misfits when they stand so close together like that.

"Blackjack, let's play hide and seek," Laura said enthusiastically. "Yes. Yes. Yes." said Magnemite in its own way. "Play!" shouted Captain.

"Where would we hide? This is a beach."

"Excellent! Default," said Golem as he dug himself a hole. You know, sometimes I wish I could hunt by digging a hole and waiting for someone to fall in.

"Let's play tag instead," Nic barked. "Yeah tag instead!" repeated Laura. "And I thought one was headache enough," Jerry muttered to himself.

It's funny how, in all the time they spent together, Nic and Laura never figured out that the mother they were both talking about was the same arcanine. The brother and sister who had forgotten who they were are reunited. I don't know whether to be sad or happy for them. Honestly, I think it might be happy: they get to be friends before they get to be family.

"Jane, may I speak to you in private?"

"S-sure, o-okay," she squeaked. Ever since the day they began asking me "Where's Charles?" she's seemed so lost.

"Boo, you're no fun Blackjack," Laura whined. "No. Yes. Yes. Yes. No. Yes." said Magnemite in its own way. "Tag, I'm it!" shouted Harry as he slapped himself in the face. Uh, no comment.

So I took Jane away from the others. I took her up the beach where the palm trees shot out of the sand like hair missed while shaving a beard. That may have sounded weird, but it's the only way I could describe it: like unshaven beard hair.

"Where's Charles?" she asked. In that moment, my resolve was almost shaken. The way she looked up at me, such frightened curiosity: I almost forgot to speak and let Charles rest.

"Jane."

"W-where's Charles?" she asked, her voice beginning to quiver. She looked so small.

"Charles… is gone."

She didn't look up at me at all, she just looked down and said nothing. Maybe this was a mistake.

"You're lying," Jane said. She came at me with a fury cutter, but I managed to avoid it. They say the meek ones are always the most volatile; I think the reverse is also true. I must give her credit though, she's much faster than I thought.

"You're lying!" Jane shouted as she came at me with another fury cutter. That one nearly hit me. I think it's time for me to go – sometimes it's better to leave them alone.

"Blackjack!" Jane shouted as I ran through the trees, "Where's Charles? Where's Charles?"I cannot say.

I decided that a talk with _him_ would be the best thing right now. I felt like we hadn't been talking much lately, what with all this chaotic shit going on. I want to have a word or two with _him_ about Sarah – for Lauren's sake. I hate to admit it, but part of me is proud that _he _managed to – um… never mind. I could still hear Jane shouting "Where's Charles?" when I found _him_, but you know, I do have pretty good hearing.

_He _was fishing, just like _his _father used to love to do. I would call _him_ lazy, but that seems a bit hypocritical given some of my habits. Besides, _he's _been training all morning, I think _he _deserves a little free time.

"Mark, you wanted to talk to me?" asked Janet. Damn, looks like there's a line. I'm not waiting for that idiot.

"Yeah," _he _said. I guess I could wait, even if it is for her.

"Where did you get those pokeballs?" _he _asked as she sat. She looked like a senile old man trying to find his glasses when she looked for those pokeballs. "I don't know," she replied quietly, holding the pokeballs up. One was a brand new standard model –I think – and the other was a purple pokéball that I had never seen before. If I didn't know what it was, then Janet certainly didn't. That's more Tracy's area of expertise.

"I found it on my bedside table," said Janet. So now she's getting paid eh?

"It was probably that guy I saw you, uh, 'with' last night," _he_ told her. Ha, you should have seen her face when _he _said that! "Sarah saw you too," _he _added quietly. Ha ha ha!

Janet put her hand to her head and said, "Oh, arceus really? Mark I'm so…" Embarrassed? Ashamed? You should be.

"Jan," _he _said, "Don't you think you ought to cut back a little?"

"Did Tracy put you up to this?" Janet asked angrily. I'm not too fond of Janet, but she is an observant woman. Well, I guess that isn't always true.

"Jan, we're worried that you –" " – Shut up you little freak! Nobody gives a damn about anybody but themselves!" Janet screamed. She's really pissing me off today.

"I-I'm sorry I didn't mean to say that," Janet said quietly. "It's alright," _he _mumbled. It was silent for a long time.

I watched her scoop up a handful of sand and let it slip through her fingers. I have often wished that I could do the same, but these paws of mine can only hold.

"Do you remember that day on the beach?" she asked wistfully. What do you think shithead? "Yes," said _he. _She picked up another scoop of sand.

"Paul told me this story once: about this man who walked along the beach every day and counted the grains of sand. He was afraid of dying, so he asked arceus to let him live forever. arceus told him that as long as he kept counting the grains of sand, he would not die, so he just kept counting the grains of sand," said Janet.

"What happened to him?" _he _asked.

"He kept on counting. His friends and his family all died off and he remained alive; pretty soon, it grew so hard to keep track of the number that it was the only he could do was count the grains of sand," Janet said, "arceus tricked him."

"You missed the point of the story."

"Blackjack, what are you doing here?" _he _asked me. I had about a million snarky responses, but I needed _him_ to talk to the idiot. "Go away Blackjack, I'm talking to Mark," she told me.

"I'm sick of that drunken slut."

"I can't say that!" _he_ told me. "What did he say?" Janet growled. _He_ told her what I said, mind you, without the tone I would have liked.

"Drunken slut!" Janet yelled, "Well you know what: I'm sick of you!"

"Why? Because I'm not fooled by your tricks?"

"Fooled by my tricks? That great coming from the liar," she said. "Jan!" _he _scolded.

"You're selfish and destructive, just like your father used to be."

"My father…You think you're hot shit don't you? Look at me I'm Blackjack, I'm so wise, death sucks, I'm mysterious! I should skin you and turn you into a belt! Then we'd see how well your fortune cookie wisdom really works," she said smugly.

"If I was your belt I'd be even more mysterious, since ninety percent of the time you aren't wearing pants."

"Blackjack!" _he_ scolded. Gah, what's the point of arguing with her!

"This is why Lauren hates scientists! They don't care about anything but their own way of thinking and they all just hurt anyone in their way!"

Then Janet smiled, a wide smirk that told me she was about to say something big. I thought I could handle anything she threw at me, after all, she was just a scientist. I was wrong.

"At least I'm not trying to get into Aunt Lauren's pants," she said. "Jan!" _he _shouted, "That's way too far!"

"That's…I…She…" I was speechless. My arrogance had caught up to me again.

"Come on Mark it's obvious. He always going on and on about her, plus he was practically rubbing his face in her boobs back in Goldenrod," Janet sneered.

"You… have no idea what you're talking about." Lauren has been through more than any of them know.

"There's no way that's right Jan, you're just trying to deflect," _he _said, "There's no way that's true, right?"

I looked him dead in the eyes. "Lauren is a kind woman with a warm lap and gentle hands... nothing more."

Suddenly, Laura ran over, barking up a storm. I don't think I've ever been more thankful to see her. "Master, Master come quick!" Laura barked. "What's going on?" _he _asked me, no doubt forgetting the accusation. "Jane's gone off the deep end, lost her marbles, started attacking everyone," Carolyn said. "Yes. No. No. No. Yes. No." Magnemite said in its own way.

"So there is a problem with Jane?"

_He _immediately hopped on Laura's back. "Jan, we'll talk more later," _he _said as _he_ took off with the others. _He_ looked pretty exhausted, maybe I shouldn't have pushed _him _so hard with all that talking.

"Blackjack," Janet said quietly. Looking back on it now, she probably wanted to apologize. She was just frightened and alone, but I was filled with anger at the time; so I traded Janet for Jane.

By the time I arrived, Jane had already beaten Harry and Jerry, and she was close to beating Nic. Anger destroys far more than objects you know. _He_ was just standing there with Laura, not really doing anything. Typical Mark. I guess there really wasn't anything to do.

"Where is he!" Jane shouted, slicing Nic with another fury cutter. "Where's Charles!"

Nic crashed to the ground with a confused look on his face. Poor dope didn't even know why he was being attacked. It was then that Jane started to glow with an ominous white light.

"Stop. This is too early."

She couldn't hear me: the process was too far gone. She was going to evolve early and I couldn't do a thing to stop it. We all watched her, mesmerized by the light like venomoths. Then a beam of light shot out of her and hit _him_ in the waist. Scared the crap out of me.

"What?" _he_ said holding up a pokéball, "I thought I left this back at…" I instantly recognized that pokéball.

It belonged to Charles.

* * *

><p><strong>I hate ghosts.<strong>

* * *

><p><span>Author's Note: Iwrote this all in one sitting, which is something I try not to do. This chapter is one of those ones that was set up way back at the beginning of the story (I think Ch. 20) and I kinda feel like it didn't live up to its full potential. <span>

I think if you go back and read through this story you can see where I was working on other a less negative note. I've been pretty happy with the last couple of chapter titles, especially the one before this one.**  
><strong>


	66. 62 :::: I am

_I am_

Just up a gently sloping hill, far from any of the tourist districts of Cianwood, there was a small outdoor restaurant that was famous among the locals for serving the worst dinner imaginable. The chef there was an enormous jolly woman with indelicate, stubby fingers that absolutely mangled any fish she got her hands on. Patrons who had the misfortune of casually ordering the seafood special were treated to a gastrointestinal journey that was, in a word, unforgettable. She was however, an artist when it came to anything but fish.

The dining area sat on a large outdoor deck with long wooden slats that needed to be stained again and wooden tables held down by rusty bolts. There were a few tiki torches scattered about that, when combined with the fantastic beachfront location, lent a sultry atmosphere to the place at night.

On this morning, there were just two girls eating at the restaurant; the chef had gone into town to get fresh fish and everyone else was sleeping in after going to last night's gym battle. One of them wore a pair of ratty jeans, an old police academy shirt and a sling on her arm. The other had chosen to forgo her usual attire and instead wore an elegant silky smooth dress with gold trim and a ragged tear at the knees.

"I've never had such a fancy doughnut before," Sarah commented as she cut into the doughnut with a thin butter knife. Tracy smiled to herself as she watched Sarah eat. "Really? Aren't doughnuts –" " – Don't do it," Sarah said sternly. "Do what?" Tracy asked with a tone of mock innocence. "Make the 'cop with doughnut' joke. I'm so sick of doughnut jokes," said Sarah.

The two girls giggled.

"I thought you were on a diet anyways," Tracy said as she brought another fluffy pancake up to her mouth, "Did it go that badly?" A little breeze picked up a strand of Sarah's hair and blew it across her face as she grinned.

"No, it went very _well_," Sarah said. Tracy watched as Sarah licked her lips slowly. "I'm quitting the diet. It didn't really work anyways," Sarah stated.

Tracy groaned and rolled her eyes. "Oh Arceus, what did that idiot do?" she asked. "Don't call him an idiot," Sarah blushed.

Tracy rolled her eyes and took bite of her ham and mushroom omelet. Sarah pointed her butter knife at Tracy's plate, still looking a little scandalized at the insult to her boyfriend. "And what about you? Should you really be eating that?" Sarah asked in an accusatory way. Tracy dropped her fork. It landed on her plate with a loud series of clangs.

"What?" Tracy asked picking up her fork cautiously. Sarah sliced another piece of her doughnut off and ate it, chewing it casually. "Should you really be having eggs?" Sarah asked.

"Why wouldn't I be able to have eggs?" Tracy asked forcefully, narrowing her eyes. "Well your medical history said 'eggs bad' so I thought –" "- You read my medical history!" Tracy yelped, banging her silverware against the table.

"Well, Dr. Reynolds sent it over so I thought I'd take a quick peek," Sarah said, "I'm sorry I didn't think you'd mind."

Tracy went red in the face as she pictured Sarah looking over her medical file with a magnifying glass. Those were her personal details. "S-Sarah, you read my, I can't believe, I mean, isn't that illegal?" Tracy stammered. "Not for the police," said Sarah, "I'm really sorry Tracy, I just got curious, that's all."

Sarah gave Tracy an apologetic look that made all her embarrassment and anger melt away.

"W-well did anyone else see?" Tracy asked quickly. Sarah shifted her weight and pushed the strand of hair out of her face. It immediately fell back into place. "No, just me and the hospital," she said. Sarah looked down uncomfortably and straightened her silverware. She looked like she wanted to say something. Tracy mentally went through her medical file, trying to prepare herself for the inevitable question.

"What's it like?" Sarah asked quietly, "being in a wheelchair?"

Tracy unconsciously grabbed her thighs and massaged them slowly as she remembered her old chair. She hadn't thought about it in a long time.

"When they first put me in it, I thought I was being punished for something," Tracy told her, "I got used to it after some time." Sarah smiled a little, which made Tracy smile too. "I guess it would have been different if I didn't know I would be out of it someday," she added. Sarah frowned at that comment.

"Was it embarrassing, having people stare at you?" Sarah asked, eyes shining brightly in the morning sun. "I'd rather not talk about it," Tracy answered quietly. It hurt to reject Sarah, but honestly, she was pretty young at the time and didn't remember that much. Tracy let go of her thighs with a sigh and propped her head up on her hands as Sarah took another bite of her doughnut.

"Sooooo, speaking of wheelchairs, how did the dance go?" Tracy asked, completely changing her voice and the subject.

"Oh, the dance," said Sarah. She couldn't tell Tracy that it had been a complete failure, after all, she was the one who set everything up. "It was really romantic, I absolutely loved it," Sarah lied. Tracy smiled from ear to ear as she poured warm, amber syrup all over her fluffy pancakes. "Go on," she said dryly, taking a bite.

"Oh Tracy, he was so, so…" Sarah sighed. She closed her eyelids and licked her moist lips as the sounds and tastes came back to her. "He was so perfect and I was so awkward and ugh…" Sarah said. Tracy watched Sarah's lips intensely. "_You_ were the one being awkward?" Tracy asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yeah, I brought up Mom at one point, can you believe that?" Sarah laughed nervously. Sarah's eyes shifted towards her plate as the wind blew more hair into her face. "What did he do?" Tracy asked quietly. Sarah was as touchy about her Mom as Marcus was about his Dad, so Tracy tried to avoid the topic whenever possible. Most of the time it was easy, since all Sarah ever really talked about was Marcus.

Sarah reached up and adjusted the strap on her sling. "He really understood Tracy, and he listened too, he really listened to everything I had to say," Sarah gushed. Her eyes were so bright and full of joy. Tracy frowned.

"He's not _that_ great," she muttered to herself as she poked holes in her pancakes with her fork in frustration. Sarah looked at her curiously. "I mean, Mark's my friend and all but…" Tracy said. "What are you talking about?" Sarah asked defensively. Tracy stabbed her fork into her eggs and gazed at into her eyes. They looked so beautiful in the morning sunlight.

"You're so pretty Sarah, does he ever tell you that?" Tracy said softly.

"Yes, once or twice," Sarah said. She blushed in embarrassment. "You're too good for him, you deserve someone who would really appreciate you," Tracy said quietly.

Sarah scratched her arm self-consciously. "I'm not that great of a catch," Sarah said, awkwardly trying to slip a training term into her sentence. She pushed her hair out of her face only for the wind to blow it back again. "I'm a huge slob at home and I'm terrible with numbers; Sam says I get super clingy when I get a boyfriend," Sarah said, "Nobody's perfect Tracy."

"But he's so… so emotional and oblivious and naïve," Tracy whined.

"That's funny, those are the qualities I like about him," Sarah said.

Tracy felt a single bead of sweat roll down her nose and cling there like a stalagmite.

Sarah looked at her in a weird way. "Marcus has his flaws, but he's such a great guy in every other aspect," Sarah said, "You can't tell me you never thought about him."

"O-of course not, he's, he's your boyfriend!" Tracy stammered, "I'd never do something like that… to you."

Sarah looked like she was deep in thought; about what, Tracy did not know. She looked worried about something.

"You have an eyelash," Sarah said suddenly. "Where?" Tracy asked, pawing at her face. Another drop of sweat rolled down her nose. "It's right here," Sarah said, pointing to her nose with her good arm. "Is it still there?" Tracy asked after rubbing her nose. She picked up a spoon and tried to use it as a mirror.

"Here, I'll get it," Sarah said. "No! I can get it!" Tracy shouted as she jerked away from her hand. She realized that she must have seemed crazy to Sarah. Maybe she was crazy, acting like her skin would fall off if anyone else touched it… she certainly felt crazy.

"I lied," Sarah stated under her breath. Sarah stared at her intensely with her big beautiful eyes. "You've been acting weird Tracy."

"Huh?" Tracy squeaked. Her spoon dropped out of her hand and bounced off the deck. It fell, sticking down in the sand like the sword in the stone. "I should go get that before the owner comes back," Tracy muttered, standing up slowly. Sarah rose with her and looked her straight in the eye with a piercing gaze. Tracy went to move past her, but Sarah would not budge. "I should really go get that," Tracy said to herself, looking down at the spoon.

"Tracy," Sarah said, placing her hand on Tracy's shoulder. Without thinking, Tracy swatted at it. She backed up, nearly slipping off the edge.

Sarah looked down at her hand then back at Tracy."I'm a cop you know," Sarah said quietly, "I'm trained to notice things. I try to turn it off when I'm not working, but sometimes I just can't help noticing things." Tracy balanced herself against a chair, suddenly feeling very exposed under Sarah's scrutiny.

"What are you talking about?" Tracy laughed. It came out hoarse and dry, her mouth and throat still sticky with syrup.

"I see a lot of things Tracy," Sarah said, lowering her gaze slightly. Tracy felt her knees begin to shake. "People… people are terrible," Sarah said quietly, "No - people do terrible things to other people."

Sarah brushed her hair out of her face only for the wind to blow it back again. A wave, having crossed an endless expanse of water, leaped onto the beach only to be pulled to the expanse again. A bead of sweat dripped off of Tracy's nose and hit the deck with a dull thud.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of," Sarah said slowly. Tracy gripped the chair tighter. "It happens to plenty of women," Sarah said cautiously, "and plenty of men too."

"I don't, I don't know, I don't know what, what you're talking about," Tracy whispered, closing her eyes tightly as her knees knocked against each other.

And Sarah's mouth moved in slow motion. The word oozed out from in between her teeth like a grimer, dripping over her lips and forming a puddle of putrid slime that bubbled and writhed as it creeped closer and closer. Tracy's hand slipped off the chair.

"Are saying that I got…" Tracy couldn't bring herself to say the word. Sarah moved towards her, holding back heavy emotions as Tracy's reaction confirmed what she thought. "I just have germaphobia, yes germaphobia," Tracy said forcefully.

She began to sway and lose her balance. Sarah reached out to try and stop her fall but ended up falling herself. The two women rolled down the sandy hill, landing by the beach.

Sarah winced as she tried to stand up. Her arm wasn't quite as healed as she thought it was. Tracy loomed over her, already on her feet after their sandy tumble. Her whole body was shaking. "Tracy, I'm so sorry," Sarah said softly.

Tracy found herself staring at her friend with lust again. Her beautiful eyes, her soft hair, her juicy thighs; all so Sarah. Her head was foggy with emotions. Before she even realized what she was doing, Tracy found herself nibbling on Sarah's lower lip.

She could taste the sweet doughnut Sarah had been eating just moments earlier. She was a delicate, forbidden dessert that Tracy was consuming. Her first kiss! The kiss by which all other kisses were judged. It was better than she could have imagined. Sarah was unresponsive and tense, too shocked to do anything. Tracy moaned into her mouth.

Sarah pushed her away as soon as she regained her senses, breaking the kiss. She hurriedly wiped her mouth against her sling. "I'm s-so sorry," Tracy said, still panting and flushed from the kiss. She blushed, though it was impossible to tell given how red her face already was.

"Please don't do that again," Sarah said, wiping her mouth a second time.

"Shut up!" Tracy yelled, pinning Sarah down with her knees. Sarah groaned and squirmed as Tracy's shins dug into her sling-bound arm. "Tracy … my arm," Sarah hissed.

"I said shut up whore!" Tracy yelled, raising her arm to strike her. Sarah flinched as pain shot up her injured arm. Her forehead was now as sweaty as Tracy's. Tracy stared the rookie cop trembling beneath her and felt her stomach begin to churn.

Tracy backed away from Sarah with horror. She tried to run away, but her knees gave out on her and she ended up collapsing into the sand. She curled up into a tight little ball, tucking her knees into her chest defensively.

"What's wrong with me?" she moaned. Sarah staggered to her feet and went over towards her friend, trying to fight back her own emotions. "Go away!" Tracy screamed she approached. "Tracy…" Sarah said softly, "I know you're scared."

"_That_ d-didn't happen – it wasn't _that,_" Tracy whispered into her torn dress. Sarah kneeled down next to her friend. "Tell me," Sarah said gently.

"It wasn't _that_," Tracy repeated. She closed her eyes and breathed into her silky dress.

"All she did was touch my breasts – so it wasn't _that_ – not down _there_, just... my boobs," the girl said mechanically.

"Did she hurt you?" Sarah asked almost silently. The girl nodded her head quickly. "Oh Tracy…" Sarah said. The girl began to cry quietly, squeezing herself into an even tighter ball.

"Have you talked to anyone else about it?" Sarah asked, trying to soothe her with her voice since she could not use her hands. The girl shook her head.

"Is there anyone else you think you could tell?" Sarah asked.

"My Mom," the girl wailed. "Shhhhh, don't think about that right now," Sarah said.

"M-Maybe M-Mrs. Green," the girl sniffled.

"Can you stand?" Sarah asked. "I think so," the girl sniffled. She uncurled her legs slowly, and picked herself up. Her knees were still shaky and her face, red and puffy. "I'm going to go pay the bill and we're going to go back to the hotel to get you cleaned up. Then we're going to call Mrs. Green," Sarah explained gently.

A light breeze blew across the sands.


	67. LXIII : Pyrrhic victory

_Pyrrhic Victory  
><em>

**Another such victory and I will go back alone...  
><strong>

* * *

><p>I surveyed the battlefield from my little perch up on the artificial peaks. It's almost beautiful from a distance; fighting. I know I said I didn't want to fight, but I really had no other choice. My "trainer" needed me to fight today.<p>

Battles against the Chuck, they're the most famous battles in the nation: the full team battle. The double battle, the triple battle; the only logical extension is to have all six pokémon out at once. Of course, the rules don't allow for this kind of thing – far too expensive to pay for all the medical personnel in everyday battles – but this Chuck, he's a pretty clever guy. He just get's a trainer to stand next to him and says it's two triple battles going on at once. That's why I'm here right now, on this peak; because some rule says that two trainers have got to send out three pokémon each.

I've been put in charge of monitoring things, my "trainer's" way of keeping me out of battle I guess. There really isn't anything to monitor given her training style. She's a rare breed of trainer. Instead of barking orders all the time she trains her pokémon to think and battle for themselves. That doesn't mean the trainings easy; the sessions I've watched made me feel sorry for poor Jerry and Jane. Jerry and Jane, Jerry and Jane: that's really fun to say.

Speaking of Jane, turns out that nincada have an odd evolutionary chain. Apparently, they evolve into two separate pokémon. Who knew, right? I mean, I've heard of pokémon with split chains – hell, I'm from one of the biggest split chains there is – but one pokémon into two, it raises so many questions. Well, not really, I guess I really only have one question: which one is the real Jane?

I haven't got a chance to talk to her – or would that be hers? - since the change, so I wouldn't know. Actually, I did see the one that went into Charles' old pokéball. That was one hell of a pokémon, just sat there completely silent and immobile, that creepy empty expression permanently on its face. Shit, I mean even Magnemite finds a way to talk. Worst than that, it's a ghost-type. Ghosts, I hate ghosts!

My "trainer" is all steamed up over the whole thing, because that was the one she was really training for. You see, it's got this weird… you know what, screw it. That doesn't really matter right now. The main point is that she's all steamed up over ownership.

When a pokémon evolves it's considered the same entity and still belongs to whatever trainer caught it in the first place. Well, that's all fine and dandy until you run across pokémon that evolve in weird ways like magnemite and slowpoke. It doesn't come up as much with magnemite, since almost all of those are owned by governments, but slowbro is a tricky situation. If one trainer's slowpoke catches another trainer's shellder and they evolve into slowbro, who gets to keep the pokémon? Legally, in most places, it's the dominant personality.

So what about nincada? Well, here's the ruling: the direct evolution belongs to the original trainer and the weird one belongs to whatever pokéball it insinuates itself in. They're going to trade after this battle, so I guess she's not so much mad at _him_ as she is at the law. It just goes to –

Something's behind me.

I whirled around and prepared a shadow ball. Damn! Should've paid more attention instead of going on about the stupid law.

"Be still umbreon," he wheezed. I dropped my fighting stance. He was a hitmontop, an old one at that. His wrinkles had wrinkles, his knees were gnarled and misshapen from thousands of kicks and the spike on his head was almost completely worn away. This was definitely a gym pokémon.

"Do you have a name?" He asked me, easing into a sitting position.

"You can call me Blackjack."

"Blackjack," he coughed, "Yes, this will be a good fight." I would ask him for his name, but gym pokémon never have names. Sometimes they'll use their own pokémon and they'll have names, but the ones that belong to the gym don't have names. The league prefers to focus on the trainer rather than the pokémon, which is why Tracy's battling style isn't too popular.

"I'm retiring today, let's make it a good one," he told me. He laughed about something to himself. "But first I want to savor the battle," he added. I don't really see anything savory about it, but hey, whatever.

"Very well."

He turned and smiled at me. "Sit with me umbreon," he said. I obliged the old guy, after all he was retiring today.

I glanced up at the scoreboard and found something unpleasant. Golem, Harry and Jane had all been knocked out and all we had to show for it was one of Chuck's gang. It was five on three, four on two since me and the old hitmontop were up here. Looks like my plan to sit back and not get involved didn't work so well. Wow, what a huge surprise, doing nothing didn't help the situation!

"Look at them, shameful," the old hitmontop sighed. Laura was surrounded by all four of them. She was managing to hold them off a bit with a fire spin, but every time she stopped they all closed in to attack her.

"They know only of victory, nothing of honor," the old hitmontop said sadly. Cheerful guy that one, though I suppose I'm not one to talk…

"Jerry, get your ass over there," my "trainer" shouted. I think that's maybe the third time she's spoken this whole battle. She seems to be enjoying the battle, it's good for her to get back into a routine.

Jerry came charging, his stomps shaking the stadium to the delight of the audience. He slammed his tail into the ground, causing the ground to ripple. Chuck's gang fell over, giving Laura a chance to get out.

"You're late," Laura chided. "Hello to you to," Jerry smirked. The crowd roared in excitement as she whipped up another fire spin.

"They fight well together," the old hitmontop chuckled. Yes, they certainly do a lot of fighting.

"Get ready," Laura barked. She let the fire spin down. There was no method to their fighting: Jerry just swung his fists around while Laura loosed jets of fire. It was remarkably effective, all things considering. Of course, they were still going to lose, it was just a matter of how badly.

Jerry grabbed one of them and held them up in the air for a mega punch. While his back was turned one of the others – a machoke I think – punched him in the back of the head and he fell to the ground.

"Jerry!" Laura howled. Isn't that sweet? She launched herself at the one Jerry was holding with a mighty take down. Sure she knocked herself out, but at least Jerry's effort wasn't in vain.

"Dishonorable," the old hitmontop muttered to himself.

Looks like it's four on one now so – crap! I'm not a spectator this time! Four on one, this is going to get… interesting. By which I mean extremely painful.

"I'm sorry for their behavior," the old hitmontop said sadly.

"I'm sorry our fight couldn't be one-on-one."

"Hey, found him," I heard someone say. He was a hitmonchan, young and fit. The machoke and some foreign pokémon with a red nose and a big metal beam followed close behind him. That beam… seems a bit unfair.

"Stand down," the old hitmontop coughed, "This is my retirement fight." I eyed the machoke: he seemed to be sweating an awful lot.

"Shut up ya old geezer," the hitmonchan scoffed. "Yeah, you old – old…" The machoke collapsed. What the hell?

"You did not even realize your comrade was poisoned," the old hitmontop said angrily, "how do you expect to beat one such as this?" Woohoo! Go Jerry! Good old toxic claims another late victory.

"He's a dark-type, it'll be easy," the hitmonchan said. "DURR DURRRRRRR," the foreign pokémon added. I'm serious, he actually said that. What a moron.

"Do not underestimate your opponent," the old hitmontop wheezed. Then that hitmonchan did something that just pissed me off: he punched that old hitmontop in the face. The crowd murmured in confusion, did he really just do that?

I opened with a confuse ray to the foreign one. I figured if the fellow was confused in the first place then a little confuse ray would only make things more interesting. The hitmonchan rushed at me with a mach punch. Hothead. I faint attacked behind him. I launched a shadow ball right at his face, sending that little bastard right down the peak. I'm not going to lie, that felt pretty great.

The foreign guy was smacking himself with the beam and shouting "DURR! DURR! DURR!" I left him to his own devices. Did I ever tell you how much I love confuse ray? Well I love confuse ray.

The crowd fell silent as I rushed over to help the old hitmontop up.

"No, no, I've got it," he said as he struggled to his feet. His eye was bruised and swollen. The foreign guy stumbled around a bit then crashed to the ground, leaving only me and the hitmontop.

"Thank you," he said.

"Let's make it a good one."

Now, in hindsight I should have known that he was going to be good; the old guy had been battling all his life. I knew he was going to be tough as he spun on his head, but I just didn't think he'd be so fast. His feet whirred in my face as I sidestepped his triple kick. That was too close.

I looked for an opening, but there was none to be found. As long as that old hitmontop was spinning, I was in trouble. Why did I agree to this again? Oh yeah, food...

Everywhere I ran he followed, right on my ass. I ran for what seemed like an eternity. Pretty soon I was too worn out to dodge anymore. I stood at the edge, panting as his spinning legs whipped about.

"Well done."

I braced for impact, but there was none. When I opened my eyes I saw the old hitmontop slowing to a halt, a satisfied look on his withered old face.

"I'm…tired," he said as he collapsed to the ground.

The crowd roared. I had won. My "trainer" and _him_ ran into the arena to the cheers of a massive audience. It was deafening.

Two medics came and scooped the old hitmontop up as fans poured into the arena. I glanced at the two trainers as they beckoned me to the winner's circle. I decided to follow the medics; I'm not really one for revelry.

It was easy to slip away in the forest of legs. You'd think that people would notice me after watching me fight for the last who knows how long, but they didn't. Idiots.

You could hear the crowd cheering from the back hallways of the expansive complex. They sounded like a mighty river after a rain, that's how I'd describe it. I followed the medics into a dingy little room connected to the main medical bay. By the time I reached the room the medics were gone, which is exactly what I wanted.

"Hey, are you up there?"

I hopped up onto a nearby cabinet so I could see him. The old hitmontop glanced up at me from the dingy stretcher and smiled.

"Blackjack, go enjoy the winner's circle, you've earned it," he told me. The lie stung; I had earned nothing.

"You let me win back there, why?"

"I wanted my retirement battle to be glorious," he replied. I stared at him from on my perch.

"That wasn't a battle, neither of us landed a hit."

"Yes," he smiled, "Glorious." I couldn't decide whether this old hitmontop was incredibly wise or foolish… Maybe a little bit of both or neither.

"I think I'll stay, I'm not really one for big crowds."

The cheering seemed louder near the ceiling than it did the floor. "I can't wait to get out of this place, away from all this senseless fighting," the old hitmontop sighed, "Once they fix up my knees I'm off to the beach. Tell me Blackjack, is the ocean as lovely as they say it is?" Gym pokémon almost never leave the confines of their gym.

"Imagine water as far as the eye can see."

"As far as the eye can see," he whispered. I hid my head as an orderly with headphones in his ears walked into the room. He was listening to a beautiful waltz.

"Blackjack, I'd like it if you'd come visit sometime," the knobbly-kneed old hitmontop smiled.

"I will."

The orderly pulled out a syringe and carefully injected a clear liquid into the hitmontop's neck. He was still smiling as his eyes went dark and his gnarled old knees dangled limply over the side of the stretcher. I didn't have the heart to tell him that a gym pokémon never retires. The orderly jotted a few things down on a piece of paper, tapping his pen to the beat of the waltz. He picked up little battered body and dumped it down the garbage chute, still keeping beat to his waltz.

The roar of the crowd seemed deafening.

* * *

><p><strong>I hope you find peace...<br>**

* * *

><p>Author's Note:<p>

I got major writer's block while writing this chapter so I decided to take a few weeks off. Kind of disappointed with the flow of this chapter, but at least it's out now.


	68. 64 :::: The epoch of reason

_The Epoch of Reason  
><em>

"Pizza's here," Tracy said as she kicked open the door. As always, victory warranted a party and a party warranted pizza.

"You know, one of you two could help me," Tracy said jokingly. Marcus and Sarah were munching on popcorn on her bed, eyes glued to the television set. Sarah's bags stood by the door: she would be heading back for the pokémon lab as soon as the party was over. Tracy set the pizza down and they each grabbed a slice, still focused on the television.

Tracy scowled as she took a bite of the pizza. It was slightly undercooked. The pizza parlor was always busy on nights when the Chuck had a battle and sometimes made mistakes with timing. Not that it was the pizza that made Tracy scowl, but rather what was on the television.

"Guys , can we not watch this right now," Tracy groaned. It was footage of her interview from the night's battle. "Oh come on Trace, lighten up," said Marcus as he tossed her a pillow. "You're great on camera," Sarah told her. Tracy blushed.

Ever since the incident, their relationship had become a bit awkward. They both did their best to try and keep everything normal, but it was a little hard to get past she had done; especially when Marcus was around.

"Hey, where's Blackjack, he ought to see this," Marcus said casually, his mouth full of pizza. Trainer Center was starting and Blackjack's match was definitely going to be a point of discussion. Sarah grabbed a handful popcorn and shoved it in her mouth. "He's outside sulking," Tracy said, glad that her interview was fairly brief. Marcus sighed. Seeing Blackjack sulk wasn't an uncommon occurrence - the umbreon was pretty much always sulking - but seeing him sulk after winning a gym battle made him worry. He brushed it off. If Blackjack wanted to be alone, then he would find a way to be alone.

"_Hello and welcome to Trainer Center, where we keep you updated on all the latest and greatest in pokémon battling. I'm Jessica. I'm Jamie. We'll be your hosts tonight._

_Chuck is no stranger to bizarre battles. Yes, his controversial six-on-six battle system has produced a plethora of surprising pokémon battles. But tonight's battle has been dubbed the biggest turnabout of the decade. Over to you Jamie._

_Thank you Jessica. Things looked grim for trainer Tracy Stone and Markets Spleen tonight. Chuck swept away five of their pokémon while only losing two of his own. The only pokémon they had left was a dark-type, well known for their weakness to fighting-types. It was a four on one brawl, the odds stacked in Chuck's favor, but astoundingly, they managed to pull off a stunning victory. We'll tell you how after these messages._"

"Markets Spleen?" Marcus growled, "That doesn't even _sound_ like a real name!" Tracy and Sarah were too busy laughing to pay any attention to him.

"_Hello and welcome back to Trainer Center, where we keep you updated on all the latest and greatest in pokémon battling.  
>If you're just joining us we were discussing the startling turnabout in today's Chuck battle. Let's watch."<em>

It was different seeing the battle played out on television. Sure, they had already seen it first hand, but the clips made it seem like a much shorter battle. They still cheered whenever Blackjack knocked a pokémon out.

"_And now that we've seen the footage, it's time for Trainer Talk, where Jessica and I discuss the finer points of what you have just seen. Jessica, what do you think of this footage?_

_I think it's simply stellar. The attacks were clean, powerful, well-timed and perfectly executed. You Jamie?_

_Personally, I disagree. If you review the footage you'll see that during the first knock-out, the pokémon never even came into contact with one another. Furthermore, two of the other knockouts were self-inflicted. I chalk this battle up to luck.  
><em>

_But wait, Jamie, Mrs. Stone now holds six badges. Are you saying that she could have lucked her way into six badges. That's preposterous! What this clip shows is a well trained pokémon that is utilizing its training in a difficult situation and for that, I really think Mrs. Stone deserves all the credit here._

_Listen to the footage carefully and you'll notice something Jessica. Mrs. Stone doesn't issue commands at all. What we have here is a trainer who doesn't know what they're doing, a trainer who relies too heavily on one pokémon to carry her team. There's no doubt that Mrs. Stone will be invited to the final tournament, but I doubt she'll go far. I give her round 2 tops. If you want to be-_

_- Thank you Jamie but it looks we're all out of time for Trainer Talk. I'm sure we'll be seeing Mrs. Stone in the future. Join us for Pokémon Insight after the break, where we'll be looking at segment called Mr. Mime: What the hell?"_

Sarah turned the television off. "It's a stupid program anyways," she said quietly.

"… Spleen that doesn't make any sense whatsoever…" Marcus muttered to himself. Tracy leaned back on the bed and sighed. "Well I don't care what they think, as soon as I get an invitation to the tournament my pay will shoot up about eighty percent or so," Tracy grumbled, "So screw them."

Tracy glanced at Marcus, who was still mad about his name, then glanced over at Sarah.

"Hey Sarah, when do you think you're leaving?" Tracy asked trying take her mind off the insult to her person. "I dunno," said Sarah, "What am I, psychic? I'll know when they call me."

Marcus snapped his head up and began to laugh nervously. Tracy glared at him."It should be here soon," Sarah said. "Good - I mean, uh, that sucks, I'm - uh..." Marcus laughed.

"Can I speak to you outside Mark?" Tracy asked. She grabbed him by the collar and dragged him outside into the cool night.

She pulled him over to the beach, where nobody would be able to hear them. "What's your problem?" Marcus yelled. "You still haven't told her," Tracy said angrily. "I- I… no," Marcus admitted. The waves were very shallow, and barely made any noise.

Tracy let out an exasperated sigh. "Mark, you need to tell her," Tracy said.

"Why?" Marcus retorted.

"Are you serious?" Tracy groaned.

Marcus squirmed. "Why does she have to know, it's not like it's that big of a deal," Marcus said. He looked down at his shoes.

Tracy softened her tone. "Are you afraid?" Tracy asked. Marcus nodded slowly. "Mark," she said, looking him straight in the eye. The waves were so soothing; she had done well in picking this location. "That girl is crazy for you. Whenever we talk, all she ever talks about is Mark, Mark, Mark," Tracy said, a tinge of jealousy in her heart, "Just tell her, I'm sure she'll understand."

Marcus looked up at Tracy and smiled. "I guess you're right… again," he said, "I'm going to tell her." He pumped his fist in a way that made Tracy laugh. "Go get her Mark," she whispered as he ran up the beach.

Tracy sighed sadly and sat down. She watched as the waves lapped at seashore.

* * *

><p>"Janet Green, you have been charged with Public intoxication, Nudity without a license and Theft of government property. How do you plead?" a tired looking judge asked.<p>

Janet drooled on the podium, barely able to stand up.

"We will proceed then," the judge said, yawning, "Bring me the evidence." A policeman whispered into the judge's ear. "Well it looks like the first two charges have been dropped, however there is strong reason to believe that you have stolen government property; therefore, pending evidence to the contrary, I find Janet Green guilty of Theft of government property. The sentence is death. We lack the authority to carry out this sentence here, therefore the convict will be extradited to the mainland, good night," the judge decreed, banging his gavel lazily.

"Hey, bartender, hit me up will ya?" Janet giggled as the policeman carried her away.


	69. 65 :::: Petitio quæsiti

_Petitio quæsiti_

The swell enjoyed the feeling of the gentle wind on its crest. For the swell had been born just moments earlier and was already well on its way to becoming a successful wave. A noble trade indeed. To bravely feed its mother the land its father hung over each night was the swell's dearest wish. How proud must the swell's father – the luminous orb that dwelt unchanging in the sky – have been to see its children march forward with such purpose! The swell held fast to this purpose with vigorous gusto and soon continued to merrily glide along the oceanic surface.

Then the swell witnessed something terrible, something that would force the swell to reconsider the goal it had carried from birth. An assassin had just slaughtered the swell's brother! The swell watched in horror as the sleek metallic bow sliced through his back, sending a million gruesome bits of his body flying into the air.

The assassin would pay for its savage crime. The swell would have vengeance! The swell charged at the assassin, hurtling its body at the hulk of floating metal with incredible speed. Oh, the joy, the release the swell felt as the swell's body shattered into a dazzling spray of justice.

On the deck of the ship, that traitorous agent of the land, stood a man who would soon become the sole recipient of the swell's wrath. The salty droplets of fury assaulted him, avoiding both the boy and the girl that stood near him.

* * *

><p>"Ah!" the guard exclaimed, quickly putting his hand over his eye. It began to redden as the salt water stung the delicate organ. The guard re-adjusted the identification card in his hand, forced to restart the process of verifying it due to the sudden interruption. He glanced at the face again, a distinct feeling of familiarity washing over him.<p>

"Hey, I know you," the guard said as the pain of the salty spray subsided, "You battled Chuck! You're the girl with the umbreon." Tracy gave him a token smile and nod. She was far too upset about Janet's arrest to be flattered over having her first fan.

"Hey can I get a picture with you for my daughter?" the guard asked excitedly. In his youth the guard had dreamed of becoming champion of the pokémon league, so much so that he quit school a year early with his childhood rival to train. After many months of agonizing training they thought they were ready to take on the Chuck and begin their ascent to fame, however they were defeated in an embarrassingly quick battle. To take their minds off of their sorrow, the two rivals went to the local bar where they made drunken promises to train even harder.

Of course, promises couldn't always be kept. A few weeks into the new training program, his childhood rival quit and all but disappeared. He spent months looking for a new partner to take on the Chuck, but failed to find anyone willing to work with someone who was defeated so badly the first time. In a fit of desperation, he went looking for his childhood rival again, only to discover why she had quit: their drunken post-battle tryst had left her pregnant with their child. Embarrassed and ashamed, she had hid it from him in an effort to let him live out his dream.

He ended up quitting in order to marry her and take care of their child, getting a job as a guard that barely managed to pay for their meager existence; the only job he could get since he had never completed school. Over the years they began to fight more and more, each harboring the suspicion that the other secretly resented them for ruining their dream. For their anniversary, they had decided to take their daughter to a live gym battle. Watching their daughter's delight over the battle had prompted them to start reminiscing about the old days, which prompted them to start talking about their marriage, which in turn reignited some of the passion they had lost for each other.

"Tracy doesn't really like pictures," Marcus told the guard. Tracy glanced at Marcus, a little surprised that he had actually noticed. "We really need to get in and speak with her," Tracy said. The guard frowned and handed her identification back. "Oh, is the prisoner part of your team?" the guard asked, "I didn't see her at the match."

"Yeah," Tracy said. "Well then, you can go see her," the guard said, "A trainer with six or more badges is considered a special citizen." A look of confusion spread across Marcus' face. The guard stepped aside and opened the thick metal door that led to the temporary holding cells. "Thank you," said Marcus. "Hey, can I at least get an autograph?" the guard asked nervously, pulling out a piece of paper.

"Uh… sure I guess," Tracy blushed. She had never had fans before and despite the massive amounts of stress she was under because of Janet, she couldn't help feeling good inside.

"_Thank you for being a fan, just wait until I'm number one. Tracy Z. Stone!"_ she wrote. The guard wore a massive smile on his face. "Wow, she's going to be so happy when she sees this!" he squealed as they stepped into the prison.

It was a small room that was most aptly described as 'dank'; the kind of room that made most people feel like the walls were slowly growing, slowly bearing down to squeeze and crush them with their thick, icy weight. The bars were rusty rods made of wrought iron that was poorly refined and contained many impurities. They ran along the length of the room to right of the entrance, splitting it right down the middle. The prison side had a simple cot, a bench for sitting and a tiny window analogous to window in the door such that it was difficult to determine whether one was the guard or the prisoner at night.

"Janet!" Tracy yelled as soon as the door was shut. Marcus gagged as the smell hit him with full force. Janet lay on the cot, sweaty and clothed in an ill fitting prison outfit. Her hair was drenched in someone else's vomit and she smelled of cheap alcohol and sex. "Janet, you drunk!" Tracy yelled, cheeks puffing with red anger.

"…No professor, when I said the answer was non-real I wasn't referring to your hair. I had no idea your wife was sleeping with your brother…" Janet mumbled.

"Do you see how low you've sunk!" Tracy shouted. Janet giggled a little in her sleep, unconsciously fanning her friend's fiery anger. "Calm down Trace," Marcus told her sternly. Tracy whipped around and glared at him, making him cower in fear.

"…a little to get rid of the split ends. Don't tell anyone this color is fake…" Janet mumbled.

"Ugh, I should have done more. I knew this was happening and I thought if I let her hit rock bottom then maybe things would change, but now…" Tracy lamented. "Calm down," Marcus said cautiously."Calm down! You want me to calm down? How can you be such and asshat, she just got arrested?" Tracy screamed at him. Marcus winced.

"…No! Don't hurt him! He's not a freak! Don't hurt him…" Janet moaned.

"You don't think I'm worried too?" Marcus snapped, "There isn't anything we can do for her." "There's always something more you can do!" Tracy screeched at him. Marcus scowled at her. "Okay then, what do we do?" Marcus asked sarcastically.

Tracy stared at him, the anger in her face turning into frustration as she realized she had no idea how to proceed. "We… we can call Sarah! Sarah knows more about the law than we do," Tracy stammered. Marcus looked down at his feet.

"She's a police officer, wouldn't that put her in a position that could make her lose her job?" Marcus asked quietly.

"We're not asking her to forge evidence," Tracy retorted, "Just call her." Marcus sighed and stared at a spot in the floor where a small puddle of water had gathered. "Fine, but you have to talk to her," he said, pulling out his phone and dialing her number before handing it to Tracy. "Why should I have to talk to her?" Tracy asked defensively, glad that the darkness concealed her flushed face.

"Hello," Sarah's voice said. It sounded warbled and weak, as though she had just been crying. Tracy put it on speaker and tossed it back to Marcus, too embarrassed to talk to Sarah. "Sarah…uh, it's Marcus," Marcus said. "I thought I told you not to call," Sarah sniffled. Marcus frowned. "I told you, you're a great guy, but I think we should be free to see other people," Sarah stated, trying her best not to cry.

"I'm calling as a friend," Marcus said quietly. He waited for her to finish blowing her nose before he continued. "It's Janet, she's been arrested," he said.

There was a long pause filled with loud silence as Sarah took in the information. "…What did she do?" she asked, breaking the agonizing stillness. "They never even told us," Tracy complained. "Oh, Tracy's there," Sarah said, "Um… okay, there should be sheet with some numbers on it, read those out to me."

Tracy quickly scanned the room until she found the required sheet, which hung on the wall opposite the door. "1-797 _dropped_, 2-467 _dropped_ and 6-607," Tracy read.

"Public intoxication, Nudity without a license and Accessory to dazzling," Sarah told them. "I can see the first two, but … dazzling?" Tracy asked in a confused voice. Marcus scratched his head as he tried to figure out what Sarah was talking about. "Wait, those are offshore codes," Sarah said to herself, "Which means… oh no."

"What?" Marcus asked. "Theft of government property; that's an automatic capital offence," Sarah said quietly. The room seemed to start spinning as an overwhelming terror gripped him in the pit of his stomach.

"Capital offence!" Tracy shrieked. Marcus bit his lip as he looked over at his passed out cousin. This was bad. "Janet! Sarah! What do we do? What do we do?" Tracy pleaded in a panic.

"…Hang on, I'm going to get on an unmonitored line," Sarah said sternly. She hung the phone.

"Mark, we can't let them kill her, we can't," Tracy muttered to herself as she tried to keep a level head. She banged her fist against the bars in rage. "How could you be so stupid?" Tracy shouted at the sleeping woman. "Wait, I know what's going on," Marcus said with a snap, "When I last saw her, she had this weird, purple pokéball that she didn't remember getting."

Tracy gritted her teeth. "P-purple pokéball? Mark you asshole, that's a masterball!" Tracy said with a smile. She pumped her fist victoriously. "One of the guys she slept with must have been a thief: Jan is innocent!" she exclaimed happily.

Tracy's phone began to ring and she immediately picked it up.

"Sarah, Mark knows why she's been arrested," Tracy exclaimed. "That's great," Sarah said. Tracy gave him a thumbs up, to which he cracked a half-smile. "But there's still the matter of her pre-trial imprisonment," Sarah said gravely. Tracy's face faded from joy into fear again. "I don't see what the big deal is, it'll only be for one night," said Marcus.

"One night is enough for…" Tracy trailed off quietly, subconsciously reaching for her necklace only to remember it was gone. "I can't let anything happen to her," she whispered determinedly.

"There is a way to keep her safe," Sarah said. "How?" Tracy asked. "In most prisons, murderer's row is the only place where prisoners get individual cells…" Sarah said.

The normal prisoners were kept in a 'dark well': a pit with thick concrete walls. All the prisoners lived together in order to minimize the number of guards needed. The idea was, that the prisoners would be kept busy fighting amongst themselves for food and shelter, and wouldn't spend time trying to escape.

"I'll do whatever it takes," Tracy said. Sarah took a deep breath and composed her thoughts. She didn't feel right doing this, but she had no other choice.

"Seven thousand dollars should do it for two people, but you should withdraw ten-thousands for safety. Normally, they track withdrawals over nine thousand dollars, but you work for the league so they won't track you," Sarah said quickly.

"Sarah, are you asking us to bribe somebody?" Marcus asked, completely stunned. Tracy slapped him. "Keep your voice down asshole," she whispered harshly.

"Separate them into bundles of five-hundred, you'll want to be discrete so try to get large bills," Sarah continued hesitantly.

"I didn't think you were dirty," Marcus said in disgust. "I'm not dirty," Sarah said bitterly, "I've never taken a bribe." "Then how do you know this?" Marcus sneered. "Just ignore him Sarah," Tracy scowled. "Marcus, sometimes doing what's right means doing what the law says is wrong," Sarah said. "We're only going to get her moved so bad things don't happen to her," Tracy told him.

"Look for the guard with the neatest uniform, usually they're the most corrupt. They should take you to the warden. Remember the three-five rule. For every three you offer the guard, offer five to the warden and offer three-fifths of what you actually plan to pay. The most important thing to remember is to _never_ use the word 'bribe' - very few corrupt officials actually think of themselves as corrupt – call it a 'donation'," Sarah said.

"Thank you so much," Tracy said. "…I'll talk to you more later," Sarah said quietly. The phone call ended.

"What the hell is your problem?" Tracy yelled as she backhanded Marcus, "She already feels like shit and you go and make it worse. What kind of a boyfriend are you?"

"She broke up with me," Marcus said softly. Tracy grimaced in genuine surprise. A low groan echoed through the room as Janet rolled off her cot and hit the damp floor.

"Serves you right," Tracy muttered, "You didn't deserve her."

"Oh, and you did?" Marcus asked, his eyes suddenly darker.

Tracy felt her muscles lock up. "W-w-what are y-you t-t-t-t-talking about?" Tracy stuttered, suddenly put on the spot. "You didn't think she wouldn't tell me, did you?" Marcus said, the anger in his voice becoming more apparent.

In that moment, about a dozen different thoughts and feelings ran through Tracy's head. A part of her felt betrayed by her crush. A part of her felt glad that her crush had just broken up with her friend. A part of her felt sad for him and the heartbreak he was going through. But most of all, she felt guilt; guilt for putting her crush through such an uncomfortable situation, guilt for potentially causing the break up, and guilt for feeling glad about it.

"So what?" was all that she could say. "So what?" Marcus repeated incredulously. "Yeah, so what? _I'm_ the one who set everything up for you,_ I'm_ the one who talked to her every week,_ I'm_ the one who talked to her when she had a hard day at work, _I'm_ the one who had to listen to her go on and on about you,_ I'm_ the one who… who was right for her, not you," Tracy whined.

Marcus stared at her, his face frozen into a mask that could have conveyed a number of feelings. "So what if I kissed her? Don't I deserve a little happiness?" Tracy asked, fighting back big, ugly tears.

Marcus gritted his teeth and watched the fuzzy image of the girl that was painted on the surface of the small pool of water at his feet. "I'm not mad at you for liking her. I mean, I understand why you would like her," he said, chuckling at the last part awkwardly, "I'm just mad at you for kissing her." He closed his eyes and rubbed his pocket watch slowly. "It's my fault that she broke up with me, you kissing her had nothing to do with it," he said quietly.

"Wait, Tracy kissed Sarah?" Janet slurred.

* * *

><p><span>Author's note:<span>

Sorry about the long delay, these whiny drama chapters are harder to write than other chapters. The end of this story arc is coming up, so hopefully I'll be able to get the chapters out on a more regular basis. Thanks for reading.


	70. 66 :::: Mono no aware

_Mono no aware_

* * *

><p><em>My daughter,<em>

_I can't claim to agree with the path you have chosen for yourself, but I'm your father and no matter what you do, I will always love you.  
>Sometimes, it is difficult for a parent to admit that the little girl they once cradled in their arms has blossomed into a beautiful, intelligent, young woman who wants to live their own life. All I ever wanted was for you to live a happy life; I hope you can forgive me someday.<br>I've talked to your Aunt and she's agreed to let me sell your grandma and grandpa's old house in Cherrygrove. Half of our half will go to Lisa, and the other half of our half will go to you.  
>I know you don't believe in religion, but I will be praying for Arceus to protect you. Janet, you are my daughter and I will always welcome you home.<em>

_Stephen._

* * *

><p>Marcus followed the friendly guard through the labyrinth of hallways. The cold granite floor and dim lights brought him comfort, as they made it seem as though he were exploring a curious, abyssal cave.<p>

"Well, this is where I have to leave," said the guard as they reached the extradition processing court. "Thank you for everything," Marcus yawned. Sleeplessness was beginning to weigh on him. "Hey, thank your friend for the autograph again," the guard said as he left. "Sure thing," Marcus said.

He gathered his courage and pushed open the wide doors. Immediately, the scent of fresh paint and artificial lemons rushed out as the door pulled the courtroom air into the hall. He poked his head in and glanced around nervously. An old-ish woman with wiry, brown hair lay asleep on a plastic table; gavel still resting in her fingertips.

Marcus quietly pulled a chair from the stacks that lined the wall and sat in it, unsure if he should wake her or not. Within a minute, the choice was snatched from him: a noise from the small videophone console that teetered on top of a stack of papers blared out and the ghostly light of a projector danced upon the newly painted wall.

"Honorable blah blah blah presiding…" the judge mumbled groggily. She winced as the projector warmed up and dim video grew brighter.

"Got one for you, shouldn't take long," the man on the screen yawned. He looked to be about ten years older than his mom – then again, his mom _did _look pretty young for her age, so who knew if that was a good standard. He looked like he could use a shave and a change of clothes.

"Janet Delia Green: charged with Public intoxication, Nudity without a license and Theft of government property. Obviously, the last one is the most important," the man on the screen said. Marcus nervously waited for the words the friendly guard told him would allow him to speak. "The officer was on patrol when he noticed Mrs. Green attempting to climb a tree. When he asked what she was doing in said tree, Mrs. Green began to toss her clothing at the officer. She then proceeded to flee, but was quickly apprehended. During an obligatory search, we found that Mrs. Green had stolen government property."

"Why did these other two charges get dropped?" the judge asked, sounding for all the world like she was reading off a card. "The alcohol analyzer malfunctioned and Mrs. Green was wearing a cast, so on a technicality, she was not nude," he replied. The judge rubbed her eyes and tapped her gavel against the plastic table lazily. "Blah blah blah submit evidence now," the judge said, swing her gavel around. Marcus stood up.

"Your Honor, I'd –" " – Objectionable!" the judge screamed, falling out of her chair in surprise. Marcus flinched. The judge breathed heavily as she pulled herself back into her chair. "How long have you been there, kid?" the judge wheezed, noticeably sitting more upright now that she knew he was there.

"I'm sorry scaring you, your Honor," Marcus said, "I need to submit some evidence." The judge shot the man on the screen an icy glare, silencing his laughter. "Go ahead," the judge said.

"Well, um, she didn't really steal anything. Some guy gave that masterball to her, she didn't know it was stolen," Marcus explained. He hoped he had explained it well enough. "That certainly change things," the judge noted.

"It seems I was not clear," the man on the screen said, "We did find a masterball on Mrs. Green's person, but after a brief investigation we found that she had legally obtained it. The stolen property in question is actually a Magnemite. We found a hit on the database and a cursory glance at its user record revealed that it was registered to a _studJG_, which we suspect is temporary ID used for the command imprinting of digital pokémon in place of the genetic imprinting that's used in normal pokémon. That said, a lot of its memory is corrupt, so we're going to talk to the school for confirmation."

Marcus felt as though he had been hit by a mega punch. All that hope; gone in an instant: Janet was guilty.

* * *

><p>"Hey," Tracy whispered.<p>

Marcus flinched in surprise and whirled around with his hands up in the air, ready to take on the suddenly animate tree. He dropped his hands in disappointment as he realized it was actually just Tracy.

"How'd it go?" Tracy asked, motioning for him to join her in the tiny grove of trees beside the entrance to the prison. "Ow," Marcus hissed as one of the sharp tree branches dug a thin cut into his forearm. "How'd it go?" Tracy repeated. Marcus broke eye contact and furrowed his brow. "That bad," Tracy sighed, her shoulders hunching down in defeat.

"We … we'll think of something," Tracy said with feigned determination, knowing that she was fooling no one, "For now we have to focus on the task at hand." She held up a large, tacky tote bag with a faded picture of a sunny beach and the words, "_Welcome to Olivine!"_ on it. It was clear from the shape of the distensions that it held a substantial sum of money within its cheap, clothy belly.

"The riots have sent all my stocks plummeting," Tracy admitted, patting the tote bag, "I had to borrow a little from your account, I promise I'll pay you back. You should probably change your password after this is all over." Marcus frowned, but decided that this wasn't the best time to get upset. She seemed nervous enough as it was and he didn't want to compound that.

"We better get going before it's too late," Tracy said, an uneasy smile on her face. Marcus nodded in agreement. With some effort, the two pushed their way out of one thicket, into another, altogether more dangerous, thicket.

"Hello there," a man in uniform called out cheerfully as they entered the beige building. His large, muscular body seemed to be at odds with his gentle smile. The cool, calm front that Tracy and Marcus were putting on melted away as they encountered their first obstacle. "May I help you with something?" he asked in a friendly manner.

"Um… ah - NO! I mean, uh, yes please," Tracy blurted out. The man in uniform smiled at her kindly. "Please tell me what you need. I love to help people," he said. Tracy straightened up and tried to control her nervousness. "We, uh, we, ummmm –" "- We're looking for the warden," Marcus exclaimed. Tracy silently thanked him for stepping in.

"I'm afraid he only takes appointments," the man in uniform told her politely, "Perhaps I could tell him what you wanted to discuss?" Tracy glanced down at the tote bag full of money and took a deep breath. It was too late to go back now. "We were looking to make a donation," Tracy said, mustering up all the confidence she could manage. The man in uniform's eyes became rapacious glints in the artificial light for a split second as he eyed the tote bag. "Well we certainly can't ignore donations, why don't you follow me," the man in uniform smiled.

Marcus and Tracy looked at each other anxiously as the man in uniform led them to a room near the center of the building that bore a black nameplate reading "_Acquisitions Office"_ on the door. It was like walking into a completely different world. Beige walls and graffiti-covered chairs were suddenly transfigured into vibrant, crimson accents and luxurious leather chairs. The nauseating beeping, flashing lights and heavy, barred gates became a soft jazz track and a beautiful mini bar lined with fine liquors.

"Have a seat," the man in uniform offered, "Would you like something to drink?" Marcus struggled to stay awake as he sank into the soft leather; or at least he would have struggled, if Tracy didn't covertly kick him in the shins when the man in uniform turned around. Psychologically, standing or drinking during negotiations was one of the worst things you could do (according to Sarah). "We aren't thirsty," Tracy told the man in uniform.

"What a shame," he said, pouring himself a drink. He swirled it around as he took a seat on top of the bar. "So young lady, you wish to donate?" he asked with a cheerful smile. Tracy nodded quickly. The man in uniform pulled a small device from his belt and hit a few buttons. "Is this a general donation, or do you wish to donate to some specific cause?" the man in uniform grinned.

"I'd like to donate to the guards in charge of moving prisoners to different cell blocks. I heard it's very dangerous, especially when they move new prisoners to the murderer's row," Tracy said. She was glad that she had practiced a little beforehand. "That's very noble of you," the man in uniformed smiled as he tapped the device a few more times, "Will it be a generous donation?"

Tracy swallowed the lump in her throat. "I'd like to give twenty-five hundred directly to the guards and thirty to the warden for uh, new equipment," she said, almost losing her composure.

The man in uniform looked at her apologetically. "Thank you for your generosity, with your donation we will be able to pay for a third of our expenses. I hate to pester you, but since you have such a generous heart, I was wondering if you might be willing to donate enough for the full amount," the man in uniform smiled.

She bit her lip and tried to remember everything Sarah told her. This was a game: a game where the best outcome was still a loss. "I did not realize it cost so much," Tracy said.

"As you said, it _is_ very dangerous," the man in uniform grinned.

"I think I could spare another thousand for each," Tracy said, "With that I'm sure they could get some very good equipment."

The man in uniform hit a few buttons on his gadget idly. "Look at our newest arrival…" he grinned as he showed Tracy and Marcus the screen of his gadget. An unflattering picture of Janet in a prison uniform was displayed beside miscellaneous information. "… she's probably almost done with processing. She's going into one of the group cells. If you were donating for the guards who will transport her, then your donation would cover it all," the man in uniform grinned, "Personally, I think that our underpaid guards should get the very best, but I think that five thousand for them and six thousand for the equipment should cover the minimum."

Tracy licked her lips as she thought through what to do. "I'm sorry, I can't afford to give anymore," she said, praying that it was the right thing to do. The man in uniform looked at Janet's picture and grinned in a way that made Marcus shiver.

"She sure is pretty," the man in uniform whistled, "You know, the pretty ones always cause trouble. When the pretty girls cause trouble, I'm the one who has to take them to the quiet room… but I guess you don't know what that is. It's this padded room where pretty girls can scream as loud they want without disturbing the others. Yes, a pretty girl like her is probably already causing trouble. I think I'll give her an extra long session."

Marcus clenched his fists and tried to remain silent like he was supposed to. "F-four th-thousand and f-f-five thousand," Tracy stuttered. "You know, when I first saw you, I thought you weren't very pretty, but the more I look at you, the prettier and prettier you get," the man in uniform smiled. Marcus clenched his eyes shut, unable to stand his smiling face any longer.

"I'm terribly sorry, in all my excitement for your donation, I forgot to check for concealed weapons," the man in uniform grinned, setting down his glass, "Please take off your shirt, a pretty girl like you knows all sorts of ways to cause trouble."

"I-is this h-how you tr-treat… h-how you treat…" Tracy struggled pathetically to regain her confidence. "Eat shit," Marcus growled. The man in uniform continued to smile at him, unfazed by his hatred.

"Mark… turn around," Tracy whispered. "But Trace-" "- I said turn around," she told him in a low voice.

He did as she said and faced the wall. Tracy took a deep breath and pulled her shirt off for the disgusting man. "That's a good pretty girl," the man in uniform grinned, "Now, hold your arms out and don't drop them, otherwise we'll have to start all over."

Tracy struggled against her urge to flinch as he grabbed her arm and forced her to turn towards Marcus. "Please hold still while I check for explosives in your bra," the man in uniform said, unclasping the undergarment.

"Tracy!" Marcus protested angrily. "Be quiet Mark," Tracy whispered.

She gasped in pain as the gauze she had on her wound was slowly peeled off with her bra. Her arms began to quiver and her neck bent towards the ground as the weight of shame pressed down on her.

"Tch tch tch," the man in uniform grinned, "You are a naughty, little, pretty girl: it's very mean to trick the nice young men by stuffing your bra." Tracy refused to dignify him with a response. The sound of cloth tearing hissed as though it were right by Marcus' ear. He had had enough.

"Ten-thousand is all we have!" Marcus shouted. "Marcus!" Tracy yelped in horror, covering herself with her arms. He faltered for a moment, expecting her to be facing the other way, but he quickly recovered.

"Take the money and get a hooker you lousy sack of shit," he shouted, raising his fist to punctuate his words. The man in uniform cowered at the threat of violence. "You're going to move her to the murder's row and you're not going to lay a finger on her, otherwise me and Tracy are going to beat the shit out of you; and let me tell you, Tracy packs a punch," he told him.

"O-okay," the man in uniform whimpered. Marcus stared at him for a second, not knowing what to do. He was used to being the intimidated one, not the intimidator. "Clothes," Tracy said, shuffling towards the door. Marcus grabbed her torn clothes from his rubbery little hands, silently threatening the man in uniform one more time, before following Tracy out into the hall.

"Holy crap! That was the manliest thing I've ever done!" Marcus exclaimed, once they were out of earshot. "My bra…" Tracy moaned. Marcus looked down at the ragged cups in his hands. "Um, can we, uh, switch shirts?" Tracy asked quietly, "No bra and a white T-shirt…". Her face turned bright red. "Oh," Marcus blushed. He took off his shirt and handed it to her, turning around to give her some privacy.

"That bastard, I swear if he does anything to Jan…" Marcus grumbled as he put her shirt on. It was extremely small and uncomfortable, but it would have to do until they got back to wherever the hell they were sleeping tonight.

"Yeah," Tracy said softly. Marcus rubbed his watch uncomfortably. "Um, just so you know, I didn't see anything," he told her. She shifted her weight around a little bit. "Look how tight your shirt is on me. I feel like a bodybuilder," Marcus joked, trying to get a laugh out of her.

"Mark," she said quietly, "I don't mean to throw a pity party, but I think I need some alone time."

* * *

><p>Author's Note:<br>I love how the spell check function thinks "donate" is a complex expression, but is totally fine with "rapacious". Also, how sad is it that there even _is_ a complex expression function? "No! Don't use the word '_minimum_', it's way too big and hard to understand for fanfiction readers! Monosyllabic words ONLY!"


	71. 67 :::: Creed

_The noble knight on a white steed,  
>Wanders without a noble creed.<em>

* * *

><p>"<em>The fair maiden waited in her ivory tower, combing her gorgeous, silky hair as she looked at the delicate reflection of her perfect complexion in her tiny hand mirror. She sighed as she gazed out her window at the kingdom of MechaCamelot, that her sister ruled over. All of the kingdom's subjects LOVED the fair maiden's sister and thought she was PERFECT, even though she wasn't. If only the subjects knew about her 'special meetings' with the princess of the neighboring kingdom, the fair maiden often mused to herself.<em>

_Everyday, she would sit in her ivory tower all alone; reading books, making festive hats out of cream cheese and writing boring reports about her sister's military campaigns that always looked so much more exciting in the local plays. She secretly longed to go on an adventure with her friend the dashing silver knight, but the silver knight was under a spell. An ugly, evil witch who was a total slut-bag had placed a curse on the sexy silver knight, even though the witch was a whore who thought she was SO much smarter than the fair maiden and didn't even care about the silver knight's feelings at all._

_Bravely grabbing her bitchin' cream cheese armor, the fair maiden…_ Hey! Are you listening?"

Paul bit his tongue as he stealthy finished spitting another piece of chewed up meat into his napkin. The girl at the other end of the table glared at him; eyes sparkling with wild enthusiasm in the light of the dazzling chandelier. It was the excited look that anyone who knew her well came to both love and fear.

"So, what do you think?" she asked him. She played with the scrunchie on her auburn ponytail, uncomfortable with the way it was pinching her head.

"The premise is okay, but the characters seem a bit bland," Paul told her. He silently apologized to his pants pocket as he emptied the contents of his napkin into it.

"Well, I only wrote it this morning, so I really haven't had time to develop them," she said. She skewered a few peas on her fork and brought them up to her mouth hastily. "Character isn't very important anyways. I mean, bestsellers never have deep and well-developed characters," she mumbled to herself reassuringly.

"I guess the witch is pretty interesting. Why_ does_ she care about the silver knight so much?" Paul asked, scooping up a few peas with his gleaming spoon.

"You're not supposed to empathize with the witch," she sighed, "It's aimed at a younger audience, Paul: that's why I limited myself to the common vernacular." As she spoke, she obsessively wiped at a small stain in the silk tablecloth.

"I think you might want to tone down the swearing, Yo-yo," Paul chuckled quietly, as if the chuckle was an afterthought.

"I'm going to edit it," Yo-yo told him. She let out a small sigh as she prodded at her peas and unconsciously fiddled with her scrunchie. Anyone who knew Yo-yo well enough, knew that she hated messing with her hair and wearing makeup. This was the first time Paul had ever seen her do anything with her hair beyond pulling a cursory brush through it.

"So how do you like the steak? I cooked it all by myself," Yo-yo giggled, face beaming with pride in her accomplishment. Paul glanced down at his plate. The "steak" looked more like the charred movie stand-in for hazardous waste than something safe for human consumption. On one hand, he didn't want to upset her by telling her that she had botched her first attempt at cooking; on the other, he _had_ taken the Hippocratic Oath and would be remiss if someone else was hurt by Yo-yo's ineptitude.

"It was a good attempt…" Paul noted. He mentally winced as Yo-yo's exuberant smile became a contained frown. "I see..." she said quietly.

"Hmmm," Yo-yo hummed, suddenly rooting through her purse – which was less a purse and more a small backpack. She pulled out a worn notebook and small, stubby pencil and began to furiously jot.

"_Witch needs more backstory.  
>Steak needs less lighter fluid."<em>

"If you have more steak, I could show you a thing or too," Paul offered. Yo-yo smiled and tucked the notebook into her pocket. "I would be delighted if you were my steak instructor," Yo-yo said.

Paul picked up her plate and followed her into the kitchen, dodging the squat, cardboard boxes that were strewn about the apartment chaotically. It was a spectacular kitchen: thick granite countertops, a beautiful tile floor, stainless steel appliances that still had a few stickers on them. It was the ideal workshop for a culinary genius.

"Here are the steaks," Yo-yo chirped as Paul finished washing the dishes. "I could only find the ones saturated in this mysterious liquid. Is that alright?" Yo-yo asked.

"Marinade?" Paul laughed. "I knew that," Yo-yo squeaked quickly. She held up the steaks gingerly."Um… anyways, the grill is on the balcony," she said, flipping her hair towards the other room.

"_Reaching the top of the tower, the silver knight encountered a mighty charizard at the entrance to the fair maiden's chambers. Though the fair maiden had attempted to slip by it many times, the charizard always deterred her with the deafening roar of its massive flame. Using his wits and heroic skill, the silver knight soaked the beast's meal with a sleeping potion. Would the clever plan work? Only time would tell…"_

"This view is amazing," Paul whispered. A foghorn bellowed as a sleek passenger ship slipped out to sea. "Best view in Olivine," Yo-yo said.

The irregular gusts of wind made the smoke coming from the grill billow out in wispy pillows. Yo-yo tried to prevent her teeth from chattering as the frigid air blasted against her skin.

"It's r-really c-cold out here," Yo-yo stuttered in a jokingly exaggerated way. Paul looked at her, unconsciously checking for signs of hypothermia. "You should wait inside where it's warm," Paul suggested. Yo-yo licked her lips. "Then you wouldn't be able to teach me how to cook," she said.

"Well, don't you have anything warmer you can put on?" Paul asked her. "I haven't unpacked everything yet," Yo-yo told him. Paul gazed out towards the horizon, where the orange sun met the dark sea.

"I guess this will warm you up," Paul said as he opened up the top of the grill. Little wavy lines of heat radiated from the black maw.

"Now that both sides have been browned we don't know how cooked the middle is," Paul said. "They smell wonderful," Yo-yo said to herself. "My anatomy professor showed me a neat trick. You can tell how done it is by feeling how tender it is using your hands as a guide," Paul told her.

He held her hands to show her the correct finger positions. "Looks like it's medium-rare," Paul said as he poked her finger against the steak, "You want to take it off?"

There was a moment of silence while Yo-yo's brain caught up with the conversation. "Uh, umm, cook longer," she blurted out. Paul chuckled and shut the grill's lid.

"So how've you been Yo-yo?" Paul asked. They had talked a bit on the phone, but didn't do any catching up.

"I've been well enough, a little bored, but well enough," Yo-yo told him. She fiddled with her scrunchie nervously. "So you're traveling now…" Yo-yo said softly, "That sounds compelling. I'd like to travel someday." Paul silently watched waves break against the wharf.

"Um… Paul I, uh…" Yo-yo sputtered. "I, uh, tried to contact you when we moved, but, um, ahem. In all the time that I knew you, I, um, never learned your last name, so, um..."

It was then that Yo-yo heard something that made her heart race. The faint, but oh so distinct sound of elevator doors opening.

"Need to check on something. Stay right here," Yo-yo said before darting into the house.

Weaving her way through the maze of cardboard boxes, Yo-yo rushed to the front door, where a woman wearing a wig stood with her arms full of groceries. "Clair!" Yo-yo exclaimed in faux excitement, "Aren't you supposed to be at a conference?"

"I _was_ at a conference, but they stopped it early because of the riots," Clair huffed as she set down the groceries. She took off the bulky wig and shook her frazzled auburn hair free, placing the wig in the specially designed alcove by the door.

"Yo-yo!" Clair growled, "You were supposed to clean up while I was gone!"

"I unpacked everything in the kitchen," Yo-yo said, putting her hands on her hips.

"Well, whoop-dee-doo! What about all the boxes that…" Clair paused mid-sentence as a scent wafted into her nostrils, "Is that...?". Yo-yo winced as Clair leaned in close and sniffed her. "My steaks!" Clair shouted, "Those were my steaks!" She rubbed her face in an effort to calm herself down.

"I thought they were free game," Yo-yo mumbled. She needed to keep Clair calm - a task that was never easy.

"You think everything is free game," Clair said as she walked into the kitchen to put away the groceries.

"Maybe if you bought more food..." Yo-yo said. "Maybe if you got a job..." Clair retorted. "I've been trying," Yo-yo snapped back, bothered by her constant nagging.

"When was the last time you went to an interview?" Clair asked haughtily. "Just because _you_ got lucky and landed a good job, doesn't mean I'm not trying," Yo-yo growled.

"Maybe if you had studied something other than writing in college, you'd have a job by now," Clair sneered.

"Oh, I'm sorry for doing something that makes me happy," Yo-yo commented bitterly.

"Yeah, I am sorry. I'm still going to be supporting my little sister when I'm a shriveled up old bag," Clair sighed. "Hey, I'm the older one," Yo-yo said. "Only by seventeen minutes," Clair quipped, "And I wasn't referring to your age." Yo-yo turned bright red.

"Um, is this a bad time?" Paul asked, peeking his head around the corner. Clair glanced from Paul to Yo-yo, then back to Paul again.

"Ohhh I see," Clair smirked, "Marry a rich doctor is _not_ a career." Yo-yo turned even redder than before."Shut up," she hissed in protest, jabbing Clair in the side with her elbow.

"Clair, it's really nice to see you again," Paul said cheerfully.

"Paul, how long's it been since I heard that voice?" Clair asked. She patted her messy hair down. "Yes, we all remember Clair," Yo-yo said.

"Remember that time when – hang on," Clair's suddenly phone interrupted the reunion by loudly playing the official theme of the league. Yo-yo rolled her eyes: Clair's phone was constantly ringing.

"Crap!" Clair exclaimed.

"Paul, I'm sorry for being a bad hostess, but I'm going to have to ask you and Yo-yo to leave," Clair apologized. She was beginning to sweat nervously.

"_Poor_, I'm sorry for being a _poor _hostess," Yo-yo corrected, "Furthermore, why should we leave?" She was still sour about her sister's earlier comment. Clair returned Yo-yo's complaints with an eye roll of her own.

"I think she has a date," Paul said. Yo-yo scrunched up her nose as Clair's embarrassed face confirmed Paul's theory. "Oh ewww, why do you need us to leave?" Yo-yo groaned.

"Unlike somebody, I am an adult," Clair stated "We've been going out for some time and we want to take it to the next level."

"The 'next level'?" Yo-yo asked in a scandalized tone.

"Yes. Breathe a word of this to Mom or Dad and it'll be the last word you breathe," Clair threatened. "Let's go, Paul. Quickly, before I barf all over the floor," Yo-yo said, grabbing her purse and a jacket.

"I'm sorry we couldn't catch up," Clair told Paul as Yo-yo dragged him out the door, towards the elevator. "Good luck on your date," Paul called out as the elevator doors closed.

"_And so, having narrowly escaped the depraved horrors of the harpy's nest, the fair maiden and the silver knight traveled down into the black abyss. What adventures awaited them in this festering underworld? Only time would tell…"_

* * *

><p><span>Author's Note:<span>

I'm heading off to college in a few weeks, so if the story just drops off the radar, you'll know why. (Is it possible to end a sentence with "you'll know why" without sounding vaguely threatening?)


	72. 68 :::: Pilgrimage

_He walked on a lonely pilgrimage,  
>And found a world with naught but rage.<em>

* * *

><p>"<em>The fair maiden stood atop the narrow obsidian pillar; a crimson, odoriferous haze rising up from bubbling volcanic agony below. She steadied herself as she eyed the expansive gap betwixt her pillar and the next, quietly thanking cream cheese for magically protecting her from convection and poisonous gases in addition to being so damn bitchin'.<em>

'_Fair maiden, I would that thou take great caution. T'would cause me great distress if thou were to fall into the lava,' the silver knight called out, his soft lips pressing together into a plump, succulent pout of concern. ' Be not concerned silver knight,' the fair maiden called back. She almost lost her footing as the silver knight's sexy pout set her heart aflutter, but quickly regained it. The fair maiden was a master of balance and grace: in fact, she always passed the MechaCamelot-military-report-writing-mandatory- annual-fitness-exam with a minimal amount of crying.' Allow me to demonstrate my aptitude and prowess, ' the fair maiden said._

_With great skill she placed the palms of her fragile, porcelain hands on the smooth obsidian beneath her and elegantly hoisted her beautiful legs into the air. If the evil, ugly, bitch of a witch were in her position, the fair maiden did not doubt that she would have worn a skirt in order to make a even bigger whore of herself rather than comfort the silver knight. _

_' See silver knight, that I am not simply cunning of pen, but am also cunning of body,' the fair maiden said with a smile. Her voice was gentle as the babbling brook and as mighty as the rushing torrent, unlike the shrill harpy cries of her sister. ' Milady! Plant thy feet in safety this instant!' the silver knight cried, ' Art thou aware of the many maladies and contagions that dwell within the droppings of the seafaring flying pokémon which roost daily upon the pillar that thy delicate hands now adorn?' …"_

Yo-yo immediately dropped back down onto the wharf and looked at her hands in disgust. "Ew! What? Why didn't you stop me?" Yo-yo asked, cautiously sniffing her fingers. She was horrified to find that they now reeked of wingull urine.

"I didn't think you would do something so dumb," Paul said, pulling out a small bottle of hand sanitizer and handing it to her calmly. Yo-yo snatched the bottle and emptied it into her hands, rubbing the strong smelling alcohol into them furiously. She winced as the biting cold attacked her hands through the vapors, mentally placing her idea to wear her cute-but-uselessly-thin jacket firmly in the 'regret' category.

"I did see a beach beneath us, however I did not see a way to get down," Yo-yo said. Yo-yo squinted and tried to peer through the gaps in the walkway, but the light of the moon was too weak to provide a good view. "The sand looked pretty coarse too, it would probably rub me raw," Yo-yo muttered to herself.

"I thought we were looking for a hotel?" Paul asked. "I thought we might sleep out on the beach," Yo-yo said with a coy smile. Paul returned her smile with one of his own, though his smile was noticeably uneasy. "I'm not really a fan of beaches," Paul said quietly.

"_Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!"_ Yo-yo berated herself. Her fingers somehow tangled themselves in her scrunchie as she thought of a way to recover the conversation."Oh Paul, I had forgotten you were such a terraphiliac!" Yo-yo laughed nervously.

"I'm a… what?" Paul asked with a small chuckle.

Yo-yo's fingers teased her scrunchie mercilessly. "Ha! Silly me, you fly on your skarmory. Perhaps a better word choice would have been hydrophobic," Yo-yo squeaked. Paul stared blankly at her. If Yo-yo lived in Hoenn, her fingers and scrunchie would be considered legally married by now. "Oh, Yo-yo," Paul laughed, giving her a quick hug, "you're so silly."

"_The fair maiden clutched her hands to her voluptuous chest as the last of the icy snow tumbled down the cragerneous mountain. A panic and anguish that could not be encapsulated by a thousand milliners filled her soul as she realized that the silver knight had been swept away by the sudden avalanche caused by the witch's foul science. She fell to her knees as a single, crystalline tear rolled down her sculpted cheek until it dropped into the white snow that was as pure as her heart._

_Suddenly, in a very sudden and unexpected manner, the fair maiden heard a faint noise where her tear had fallen. With the speed and grace of a rapidash, the fair maiden dug into the snow. The silver knight had been beneath her the whole time! ' Many thanks fair maiden,' the silver knight whispered, ' had it not been for this stylish fedora thou crafted for me, I would have surely perished.' The fair maiden embraced the silver knight, his rugged arms caressing her gently and filling her with warmth._

'_Let us carry on sir knight,' blushed the fair maiden, her bosom filling with longing as they parted, 'Though fate hath denied us the straightforward road, I know of a different path by which we might achieve our end…"_

"Yo-yo, are you sure you know where you're going?" Paul asked. His eyes watered as a gust of wind pushed an oily haze into his throat.

"Of course I do," Yo-yo said, whirling around to look him in the eye. Paul narrowly avoided getting whipped across the face by her ponytail. "This area seems fairly industrial, I don't think there will be a place to sleep here," Paul commented, choosing his words carefully so that they could not be construed as sexist.

"Come on Paul, where's your sense of adventure?" Yo-yo beamed, "Like that gruff man there, what is his story?" Yo-yo pointed to a grumpy looking dockworker sitting next to a warehouse. "Let's goooooo," Yo-yo giggled, taking off towards him.

"Yo-yo wait," Paul said. "Yes Paul?" Yo-yo asked, stopping and clasping her hands together in a cutesy manner that she had seen on one of her favourite TV shows. "You're supposed to keep a low profile Clair's sake Yo-yo," Paul smiled, placing his one of his hands behind his head. Yo-yo pulled her jacket's hood up over her face with a huff, muttering spiteful things to herself about her twin sister.

"Good evening sir," Paul said politely as they stepped into the dockworker's line of sight.

The dockworker cracked his scraped knuckles and glowered at young man and woman before him. "You kids ought be head back to town, there's all sort of danger out here at night," the dockworker said.

"Perhaps we are seeking danger?" Yo-yo smiled mischievously as she struggled to keep her grammatical-correctional urges under control. The dockworker grunted at her, but said nothing more, choosing instead to ignore the strange hooded girl.

"Can I speak with you for a moment?" Paul asked, pulling his enthusiastic friend to the side. He lowered his voice into a barely audible whisper and said, "I think this might be an underground fighting club."

"Wow! An underground fighting club, how exciting!" Yo-yo exclaimed.

"Hey! Don't shout it so loud," the dockworker hissed. "Sorry," Paul mouthed before he buried his face in his hands.

"You know how to fight right? You should enter tonight's tournament!" Yo-yo gushed. She had that wild look in her eye that told Paul he wouldn't be getting out of this one very easily. "Isn't human on human fighting illegal?" Paul said.

"Illegal?" the dockworker said in an incredulous tone, "What is more criminal I ask? A sport where two foes face off on equal footing or a sport where living creatures are forced to fight against there will? They called human on human fighting a travesty, they said it made children more violent. Which sport tears at the fabric of society more than the pokémon League: where children are encouraged to leave there homes at the tender age of ten and put of getting a higher education? Won't somebody _please_ think of the children!?"

Paul and Yo-yo stared at the dockworker for a good ten seconds, unable to think of a reasonable response. "It's fifteen to watch and two-hundred-fifty to participate, your here early so my friend Glendaski will give you a rundown of the rules," the dockworker explained.

"I don't know if we have that much –" "—Oh look I found an envelope with that exact amount in my purse!" Yo-yo exclaimed, quickly shoving said envelope into the dockworker's hands.

"Let's go Paul!" Yo-yo squealed.

"_And so, fighting past the fearsome homophone-misusing ursaring, the fair maiden and the silver knight ventured forth into depths of the mountain's labyrinthine caverns. What depraved fiends would the silver knight be pit against for the defense of the fair maiden's boundless honor? Only time would tell…"_


End file.
